REBECCA 


OR,    A 


WOMAN'S    SECRET. 


MRS.   CAROLINE  FAIR  FIELD  CORE  IN. 


"  I  have  written  truth, 

And  I,  a  woman.     *     *     *     For  the  truth  itself 
That'i  neither  man's  nor  woman's,  but  just  God's. 

E.  B.  BROWHIHO. 


CHICAGO: 
CLARKE    AND    COMPANY. 

1868. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863, 
BY  CLARKE  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Northern  District 
of  Illinois. 


PRINTED  AND  BOUND  BY 

THE  WESTERN 
BOOK  MANUFACTURING  OO'l 

CHICAGO. 


JOHN    STUART 

The  Author  -would  hereby  express  her  Admiration  and  Gratitude, 

FOR   HIS    NOBLE    EFFORTS 

In  behalf  of  the  Enfranchisement  of 

WOMAN. 


2O62100 


"Force  rules  the  world  still; 
Has  ruled  it ;    shall  rule  it. 
Meekness  is  weakness; 
Strength  is  triumphant; 
Over  the  whole  earth 
Still  it  is  Thor's  day." 

LONGFELLOW. 


Ere  long  a  fairer  morn  shall  rise, 
With  purer  air,  and  brighter  skies, 
When  Force  shall  lay  his  scepter  down. 
And  Strength  shall  abdicate  his  crown, 
And  Love  incarnate  sway  the  race, 
With  wisest  power  and  tenderest  grace. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  not  strictly  as  a  work  of  art  that  this  book  appeals  to  public 
favor  and  criticism.  It  has  not  been  written  for  immortality,  but  to 
serve,  if  it  may,  a  single  purpose  to  the  present  day  and  generation. 

It  has  seemed  to  the  writer  that  the  ideas  of  the  relative  positions 
of  the  sexes,  the  status  and  work  of  woman,  and  the  nature  and 
office  of  love,  require  a  new  setting  forth  at  the  hands  of  this  genera- 
tion. The  old  method  of  expressing  these  things,  and  the  old  faith 
concerning  them,  were  wise  and  good  in  the  olden  time ;  but  now, 
as  in  the  days  of  Christ,  new  bottles  must  be  fashioned  for  the  new 
wine  of  advancing  civilization. 

In  attempting  to  contribute  her  mite  to  this  yawning  treasury,  the 
writer  has  not  been  in  the  mood,  indeed  she  is  not  sufficiently  learned, 
to  touch  statistics,  but  has  been  content  to  leave  them  to  the  handling 
of  those  exact  minds  who  are  already  working  with  so  much  effect- 
iveness among  them.  Neither  could  she  always,  from  the  nature  of 
the  work,  cite  authorities  nor  answer  objections.  Many  themes  have 
been  simply  touched,  which  would  require  volumes  for  their  elabora- 
tion ;  and  many  weighty  arguments  have  been  omitted,  because  they 
did  not  come  within  the  scope  of  the  work,  or  would  have  clogged  too 
much  the  flow  of  the  narrative.  What  the  writer  has  mainly  aimed 
to  do,  has  been  to  get  at  a  few  underlying  principles  as  old  as  the 
hills  and  place  them  in,  possibly,  a  new  light  before  the  reader. 

Her  grateful  acknowledgments  are  due  to  Mrs.  Alfred  Clapp,  of 
St.  Louis,  President  of  the  Western  Female  Guardian  Society,  to 
whose  earnest  appeals  and  kind  encouragement  the  inception  and 
final  accomplishment  of  this  work  are  mainly  owing ;  to  Rev.  Robert 
Collyer,  of  Unity  Church,  Chicago,  for  the  generous  and  judicious 
loan  of  books,  for  some  just  criticism,  which  was  also  gentle,  and 


6  PREFACE. 

for  a  kind  appreciation  of  the  purity  of  her  purpose;  and  to  Dr. 
De  Laskie  Miller,  Professor  of  Obstetrics  in  Rush  Medical  College, 
Chicago,  for  truest  sympathy  and  most  helpful  help  in  the  line  of  his 
professional  knowledge  and  experience. 

Concerning  anything  in  the  subject  matter  of  this  book  which 
may  seem  unusual,  the  writer  can  only  say,  that  throughout  her 
whole  work  she  has  labored  under  an  imposition  of  conscience,  and 

"When  God  commands  to  take  the  trumpet, 
And  blow  a  dolorous  or  a  thrilling  blast, 
It  rests  not  with  man's  will  what  he  shall  say, 
Or  what  he  shall  conceal." 

It  is  only  right  to  add,  that  she  has  made  the  subject  of  Prostitution 
and  its  causes  one  of  thorough  practical  research,  and  speaks  no 
more  strongly  concerning  it  than  her  knowledge  of  facts  will  warrant. 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER  I. 
A  Bachelor  and  a  Baby   -  n 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Lion  and  the  Mouse        -  17 

CHAPTER  III. 
Woman's  Wit       -  27 

CHAPTER  IV. 
About  Money-Lending  -  36 

CHAPTER  V. 
A  Woman  who  was  not  Strong-Minded  -  -  46 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Business  versus  Love  Making  -  58 

CHAPTER  VII. 
"  They  Twain  shall  be  One  Flesh  "        -  66 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Some  Ideas  Concerning  a  Woman's  Sphere  -  74 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Hysterics   -  -        86 

CHAPTER  X. 
An  Old  Man's  Dream  98 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Making  of  Men          ---...       108 

CHAPTER  XII. 
The  Silent  Shrew        -  -  -  -  «  119 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Chiefly  Metaphysical        -  -  -  -       129 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Hysterics,  Male  Species          -  -  139 

CHAPTER  XV. 
A  Deed  Without  a  Name  -       147 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Hen-Pecked     -  '54 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
From  Jerusalem  to  Jericho  -  -       168 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
An  Embarrassed  Lover          -  ...  177 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
A  Chapter  which  Weak-Minded  Persons  are  Advised  to  Skip       191 

CHAPTER  XX. 
A  Motherless  Child  and  a  Childless  Mother  205 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Incapables     -  -  -       216 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Among  the  "  Vines"  -  227 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Miss  Ridalhuber's  Summer  Bonnet         -  -  237 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
A  Professional  Visit   -  -  258 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
The  First  Law  of  Courtship        -  -  -  -      266 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Joel's  Secret     -  .  .  282 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
How  Mrs.  Moss  Paid  the  Doctor  -  -  -      289 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHAPTER  XXVIII 
A  Man's  Love  -  -  299 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
The  Right  of  a  Woman  to  have  a  Husband  -  308 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  Verdict  of  the  Sewing  Circle      -  318 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
Milton  Gaines,  Jr.  -  -  325 

CHAPTER  XXXII 
Rose  Color  -  -  333 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
The  Right  of  a  Man  to  Whip  his  Wife  -  -  -  341 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
The  Ark  of  the  Lord  in  Tabernacles  -  355 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

The  Power  that  is  Stronger  than  Love  -  363 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
A  Love  that  was  Free  -  273 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
The  Flower  of  the  Ages  -  .  383 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
Our  Best  Society  -  -  394 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
A  Sacrifice  for  the  Public  Good  -  409 

CHAPTER  XL. 
Two  Equal  Souls ;  one  Round,  Perfected,  Whole   -  426 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
The  Pestilence  that  Walketh  in  Darkness ;  the  Destruction  that 

Wasteth  at  Noonday  -  -      434 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


A    BACHELOR    AND    A    BABY. 

It  was  a  gray  March  morning,  chill  and  windy,  with  a 
dampness  in  the  air  which  promised  rain.  Dr.  Milton 
Gaines  standing  upon  the  steps  of  his  lodging-house  and 
prospecting  the  weather,  felt  that  it  would  be  unsafe  to 
start  upon  his  journey  without  his  umbrella,  and  stepped 
back  into  the  hall,  to  unstrap  it  from  his  valise,  and 
unbutton  it  for  instant  use. 

Being  a  deliberate  man,  this  occupied  him  for  some 
minutes,  and  when  at  last  he  again  took  up  his  valise  and 
drew  out  his  silver  watch  to  look  at  the  time,  he  saw  that 
he  had  only  a  few  minutes  left  in  which  to  reach  the  train. 

"It  is — time — I  was — going,"  said  the  doctor,  "time  I 
was  going.  The  cars  start  at  nine  o'clock.  It  won't  do 
to  be  left.  I — shall — have — to  hurry." 

This  was  a  weighty  resolution  for  the  doctor  to  arrive 
at,  but  when  he  was  once  in  motion,  you  saw  that,  not- 
withstanding his  fifty  years  and  his  two  hundred  and  odd 
pounds  avoirdupois,  he  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  He 
was  broad  shouldered  and  strong  of  limb,  and  without 
seeming  to  walk  very  fast,  he  yet  got  over  the  ground  in 
a  way  which  would  have  severely  tried  the  wind  of  many 
a  more  boastful  pedestrian. 

His  eyes  meanwhile  were  minutely  scanning  the  scene 
before  him.  The  doctor  did  not  often  visit  the  city,  and 


12  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

when  he  did,  he  meant  to  lose  nothing  which  came  in  his 
way. 

"A  city  is  not  the  place  I  should  choose  to  live  in/' 
the  doctor  was  wont  to  say,  "but  there  is  a  great  deal  to 
be  leai-ned  in  a  city,  a — great  deal—  to  be — learned. 
When  I  undertake  the  expense  of  a  journey  to  the  city, 
I  always  try  to  get  my  money's  worth  in  information,  if 
nothing  more." 

A  few  blocks  down  the  street,  you  would  have  noticed 
a  curious  expression  coming  into  his  eyes ;  deep  grey 
eyes,  set  under  a  ponderous  mass  of  brow,  and  overhung 
by  bushy  eyebrows.  His  gaze  was  fixed  upon  some 
object  just  in  advance  of  him.  When  within  a  dozen 
paces  of  it,  his  resolution  to  hurry  seemed  to  encounter 
an  obstacle,  for  gradually,  as  if  an  invisible  engineer  had 
whistled  "down  brakes,"  the  doctor  retarded  the  motion 
of  his  two  hundred  and  odd  pounds  avoirdupois,  and  just 
as  he  reached  the  said  object,  very  deliberately  brought 
himself  to  a  stand. 

' '  What' s — this  ?    What's — this  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

A  ragged  but  honest-looking  street  child,  a  girl  of 
fourteen,  perhaps,  stood  holding  a  delicate,  well-dressed 
babe  in  her  arms,  and  crying  bitterly. 

"A  woman,  sir,  gave  me  this  child  to  hold  an  hour 
ago,  and  she  hasn't  come  back  yet :  she  said  I  was  to 
hold  it  until  she  came  back;  but  if  I  don't  go  home  soon 
mother'll  beat  me.  Oh  !  dear,  Oh  !  dear." 

"Mother'll  beat  you,  will  she.  Well ! "  this  to  himself, 
"what — are — you — going  to  do — with — the  child?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir." 

The  babe  meanwhile  had  fixed  her  bright  eyes  upon 
the  doctor's  face,  and  was  regarding  him  with  the  steady 
unwinking  gaze  peculiar  to  infants.  The  doctor  had  been 
only  curious  at  first,  he  was  a  very  inquisitive  man,  but 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  13 

gradually  he  seemed  to  look  at  the  matter  in  a  different 
light.  He  shifted  his  umbrella  to  the  hand  which  carried 
his  valise,  and  settled  himself  into  a  comfortable  position 
for  scientific  observation. 

"Good — clear — eye,"  he  soliloquized,  "soft  skin,  no 
humors.  He  touched  the  child.  She  didn't  seem  afraid 
of  him,  but  put  out  her  hands  as  if  willing  to  go  to  him. 
Of  this  he  took  no  notice,  but  examined  her  clothing. 
"  H — m  !  H — in  !  Looks  healthy,  clothes  well  made ;  about 
four — months — old." 

The  doctor  was  not  a  man  to  be  seized  by  hasty 
impulses.  Quite  the  contrary;  but  he  was  by  nature  kind, 
though  if  you  had  faced  him  with  the  accusation,  he 
would  have  looked  vacantly  off  into  space,  and  whistled 
meditatively,  instead  of  replying  to  you.  Besides,  he  had 
an  ulterior  motive.  When  the  doctor  had  a  grave  project 
in  view,  ten  waiting  railroad  trains,  all  in  the  last  agony 
of  screaming  impatience,  would  not  have  moved  him  a 
hair's  breadth.  Therefore,  he  still  stood  looking  at  the 
babe  and — thinking. 

Just  then  a  policeman  happened  along,  on  his  way  to 
the  City  Hall ;  a  prompt  man  of  swift,  sure  motions.  He 
took  in  the  whole  thing  at  a  glance. 

"A  case  of  desertion,  sir.  Happens  about  twice  a 
week  oft  the  average.  Come  with  me,"  to  the  child. 

"  Stop — stop,"  said  the  doctor  with  great  gravity. 
"  Wait  a  minute ;  where — are — you — going — to  take — 
that  child?" 

"  Send  her  up  to  the  Island — Ward's  Island.  What  we 
do  with  all  of  'em." 

"What  becomes  of  them?" 

"  City  provides  for  'em.    Sometimes  people  adopt  'em." 

The  policeman  scented  a  benevolent  stranger  in  the 
doctor. 


14  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

«H m!  h — m!"  said  the  doctor  deep  in  reverie. 

"  H— m ! "  and  then  he  whistled  gravely.  "Adopt  'em  ! " 
looking  at  the  child.  "Black  hair  and  eyes;  sharp 
features." 

"Yes,"  said  the  policeman,  laughing,  and  inclined  to 
hurry  up  the  doctor's  deliberations,  "don't  look  at  all  like 
you.  No  cause  for  scandal.  Better  take  it." 

The  doctor  did  not  look  in  the  least  appreciative.  He 
never  did  when  the  joke  was  at  his  expense. 

"Any  bonds  to  be  given?  Any  papers  to  be  made  out? 
How  do  you  know  but  the  woman  will  come  back?" 

"  Oh !  no  fear  of  that,"  said  the  policeman,  knowingly. 
"They  never  do  come  back.  As  for  the  papers,  there  is 
a  form  that  is  sometimes  gone  through  with,  but  it  don't 
amount  to  anything  more  than  costs  to  the  lawyers.  Just 
give  me  a  dollar  to  drink  your  health  and  keep  ofi  the 
rheumatism,  you  know,  and  you  may  take  this  one  along 
and  no  more  words  about  it." 

The  doctor  looked  green,  but  he  wasn't. 

"I've  lost  the  train,"  he  said,  "I  shall  have  to  wait  all 
day.  I'll  go  through  with  the  forms.  I'm  a  country 
doctor,  sir,  a  country  doctor ;  and  country  doctors  ride  far 
for  small  fees,  but  I  can  stand  the  costs,  sir,  for  all  that. 
I — can — stand— the — costs  ?  " 

The  little  cavalcade  had  taken  up  its  line  of  march,  by 
this  time,  to  the  City  Hall.  The  girl  demurred,  but  the 
doctor  quietly  told  her  he  guessed  she'd  better  go  along ; 
and  that  settled  it.  It  required  but  a  few  minutes  to 
register  the  doctor's  name  and  address.  He  then  started 
off  with  his  baby — his  by  right  of  adoption — towards  the 
boarding  house  which  he  had  just  left,  the  ragged  girl 
still  acting  the  part  of  nurse.  As  they  came  out  of  the 
City  Hall  gates,  the  grave,  respectable  old  man,  followed 
by  the  girl  and  baby,  and  unaccompanied  by  the  police 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  15 

officer,  a  slight,  youthful  woman,  in  a  plain  gray  dress, 
stood  watching  them  from  a  shady  corner  of  the  park. 
There  was  an  eager,  wistful  look  upon  her  pale  face,  and 
for  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  she  would  follow  them.  But 
suddenly  her  eye  rested  upon  the  lettered  valise.  It  read 
"Milton  Gaines,  M.  D.,  Wyndham."  Apparently  she  gave 
up  her  purpose  then,  and  disappeared. 

The  doctor  was  a  little  nervous  about  being  seen  upon 
the  street  with  a  baby.  It  was  a  great  relief  to  him,  there- 
fore, when  he  reached  his  boarding  house,  and  consigned 
the  infant  to  the  care  of  Mrs.  Crane,  its  mistress.  Then, 
mindful  of  the  beating,  the  apprehension  of  which  had 
been  the  means  of  attracting  his  attention  to  the  deserted 
child,  he  produced  his  well-worn  leather  pocket-book,  drew 
therefrom  a  goodly  roll  of  bills,  and  selecting  with  much 
care  a  one  dollar  note,  gave  it  to  the  girl. 

"  There,"  he  said,  "  give  that  to  your  mother.  It's  a 
little  torn,  but  it  will  pass — it's  good — and  tell  her  not  to 
beat  you." 

The  doctor's  cadences  and  inflections  were  all  peculiar 
to  himself.  His  measured,  even  tones,  as  if  the  waves  of 
emotion,  which  toss  other  souls,  and  lift  and  sway  the 
current  of  expression,  were  strangers  to  his  seas,  were  very 
impressive;  and  this  child, to  whom  he  had  scarcely  before 
addressed  a  word  of  any  personal  import,  looked  upon  him 
with  admiration,  and  a  certain  kind  of  awe.  I  believe 
that,  as  she  walked  home,  thinking  of  her  adventure,  she 
rather  envied  the  poor,  abandoned  babe,  who  had  found  so 
grand  a  friend. 

Mrs.  Crane  was  a  woman  whom  the  doctor  had  known 
for  years,  and  in  whom  he  could  confide,  and  the  two  were 
very  busy  all  that  day.  First,  he  had  the  forms,  as  he 
called  them,  to  go  through  with.  It  was  very  easy,  nothing 
more  so,  to  prove  himself  a  proper  person  to  be  entrusted 
with  a  child.  His  banker  and  his  lawyer  were  both  pro- 


16  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

duced,  with  due  ceremony,  to  affirm  that  he  was  a  highly 
respectable  bachelor  of  unexceptional  character  and  good 
estate,  a  worthy  citizen,  and  an  ornament  to  his  profession. 
The  city  officials  were  most  profoundly  gracious  in  his 
presence,  and  behind  his  back  nodded  to  each  other, 

"Solid!  Got  the  rocks!  But  a  queer  old  customer, 
isn't  he?" 

This,  that  to  some  men  would  have  been  a  most  annoying 
task,  gave  the  doctor  a  profound  satisfaction.  The  officers 
of  a  great  city  were,  ex-officio,  men  of  importance.  He  had 
appeared  before  them  with  credit,  had  impressed  them 
with  a  sense  of  his  solid  worth  and  consideration  in  the 
community  in  which  he  lived;  had,  in  fact,  shown  them 
that  he  was  a  share-holder  in  metropolitan  wealth,  for  his 
banker  had  not  failed  to  mention  that  he  owned  both  real 
estate  and  bank  stock  in  the  great  city.  The  whole  town, 
concreted  in  its  elected  officers,  had  acknowledged  and 
bowed  to  him.  It  did  him  good. 

Mrs.  Crane  was,  meanwhile,  revolving  projects  for  the 
conveyance  of  her  charge  to  its  new  home.  To  her  it 
seemed  a  matter  of  difficulty,  but  the  doctor  settled  all 
that  with  a  few  words. 

"There's  a  ten  dollar  bill,  Mrs.  Crane;  you  will  get  the 
child  whatever  it  needs  for  the  journey.  Then,  if  you  can 
provide  me  a  good  girl,  to  take  care  of  it  on  the  way,  I'll 
pay  her  expenses,  and  as  much  more  as  she  thinks  right. 
Understand  me,  I  don't  want  a  permanent  nurse  girl,  only 
some  one  for  the  journey." 

"But,  doctor,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 

"Don't  know,  don't  know,"  said  the  doctor.  "Can't 
tell,  must  wait  and  see.  Can  tell  better  by  and  by.  "What 
I  want  now  is  a  girl  for  the  journey." 

Fortunately  Mrs.  Crane  could  supply  this  desideratum, 
and  the  evening's  boat  carried  the  little  party  out  of  the 
great  city,  to  the  quiet  shades  of  rural  Wyndham. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  17 


II. 


THE    LION  AND    THE    MOUSE. 

Moses  Moss  was  the  cobbler  of  Wyndhara.  His  little 
brown  cottage,  standing  apart  from  the  town,  in  the  corner 
of  a  bit  of  pasture,  with  only  an  ancient  chestnut  on  one 
side,  and  an  elm  in  the  front  of  it,  and  a  tiny  thread  of  a 
brook  winding  through  its  alders  just  below,  to  give  it  a 
picturesque  look,  had  notat  all  the  air  of  being  of  importance 
in  any  story.  But  on  this  particular  morning,  of  which  we 
write,  the  situation  within  its  four  rude  walls  was  highly 
dramatic. 

Moses  himself  was  at  his  wits'  ends.  In  fact,  though 
he  was  what  is  called  a  good  natured  man,  it  was  a  short 
road  to  the  end  of  his  wits.  The  truth  was,  his  Avife, 
decidedly  the  better  half  of  him,  was  sick  in  her  bed,  for 
the  eleventh  tune,  of  that  same  illness.  There  was  no 
warm,  soft  morsel  of  pink  humanity  wrapped  up  in  flannels 
this  time.  Poor  broken-down  nature  had  failed  in  the 
last  crowning  essential  of  life-giving.  They  had  borne 
out  the  little,  still,  cold  body,  the  semblance  of  a  living 
baby,  and  consigned  it  to  the  care  of  mother  nature,  who 
has  uses  for  all  such  things,  and  never  scorns  the  humblest 
gift. 

In  the  little  bed-room,  which  opened  off  the  living  room, 
kitchen,  dining-room,  nursery,  all  in  one, —  parlor  there  was 
none — lay  Rachel  Moss,  groaning  with  pain,  the  consequence 
of  nature's  efforts  to  restore  her  poor  worn-out,  shattered 
frame,  drained  of  all  its  best  forces  by  this  constant 
creating  and  equipping  of  new  lives,  to  something  like 
working  order.  The  noise  from  the  kitchen  distracted 
her;  the  cry  of  her  year-old  baby,  who  fretted  with  his 
A2 


18  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

coming  teeth,  tore  her  heart  with  nervous  sympathy  and 
yearning;  and  the  impatient  fretting  and  scolding  of  her 
husband,  who  was  trying  to  keep  the  children  in  order, 
and  get  them  dressed,  and  at  the  same  time  prepare  their 
scanty  breakfast,  added  the  last  note  to  the  screeching 
discord  which  assailed  her. 

"I  say,  Rachel,"  he  said,  appearing  at  the  door,  "can't 
you  call  some  of  the  children  in  there.  They're  all  right 
'round  underfoot,  and  a-yellin' and  a-screamin'  so't  I  can't 
hear  myself  think.  I  do  wish  you  would  hurry  and  get 
well,  or  I  shall  go  crazy." 

With  that  the  mother  raised  her  feeble  voice:  "Sallie, 
bring  the  baby  here,  and  put  him  in  my  bed.  Now  bring 
the  comb,  and  comb  your  hair.  Poor  baby,  mamma's 
sorry  for  him.  Let  mamma  rub  his  little  gums." 

Moses  had  still  as  much  as  he  could  deal  with  outside. 
He  was  a  short,  round-favored  man,  with  a  red  face  which 
hinted  of  whiskey,  a  muddy  blue  eye,  but,  on  the  whole, 
an  expression  of  that  kind  of  good  nature  which  comes 
from  a  lymphatic  temperament,  and  a  want  of  those  keen, 
nervous  forces,  which,  if  they  make  a  man  irritable,  also 
make  him  capable.  Just  now,  however,  whatever  there 
was  in  him  of  resistance  was  roused  to  its  utmost.  The 
brood  around  him  was  very  numerous  and  very  insubor- 
dinate. There  was  first,  Theodore,  a  bpy  of  fourteen. 
After  him,  Jane,  and  then  some  six  or  eight, — it  is  imma- 
terial,— crude  youngsters,  some  inheriting  the  paternal 
obesity,  some  the  maternal  angularity,  and  rejoicing,  it 
seemed  to  an  uninitiated  observer,  quite  indiscriminately 
in  the  names  of  Sallie,  Tommy,  Teddy,  Belindy,  and  the 
like.  Then  there  was  Theodore's  dog,  Badger,  an  ill- 
looking  cur  of  some  mongrel  breed,  and  chiefly  remarkable 
for  its  ugliness,  both  physical  and  moral;  and  at  last  a 
great  gray  cat,  wonderfully  sleek  and  well-conditioned, 
considering  that  it  stood  at  the  tail  of  so  long  a  line  of 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  19 

mouths.  The  truth  was,  that  Diana,  or  Di-a-ny,  as  the 
family  orthoepy  went,  was  a  mighty  huntress,  and  so  had 
resources  of  her  own.  In  fact,  she  owed  her  name  to 
this  accomplishment,  and  the  inkling  of  mythological 
lore  which  Mrs.  Moss  had  contrived  to  pick  up  in  her 
somewhat  heterogeneous  reading.  These  all,  it  seemed 
this  morning  to  Moses,  were  separate  sources  of  anarchy 
and  misrule. 

"Children,"  broke  out  the  distracted  paterfamilias  at 
length,  "if  you  don't  stop  this  racket,  this  infernal  hulla- 
bello,  I'll  horsewhip  every  one  of  you." 

"  Specially  Theodore,"  added  the  five-year-old  Belinda, 
gravely;  and  the  specialty  was  well  taken,  for  that 
hopeful  youth  had  harnessed  the  cat  and  dog  together 
with  hemp  twine,  to  the  infinite  harrassment  of  those  two 
sworn  foes,  who  were  manifesting  the  same  by  sundry 
edifying  yelps  and  growls. 

"Theodore,  get  out  of  this  house  and  take  that  dog 
with  you,"  roared  Moses.  "Now,  Jane,  take  up  the 
potatoes,  and  we'll  try  to  get  some  breakfast." 

"Pa,"  said  Belinda,  "Theodore's  going  to  set  Badg  on 
to  that  woman.  Don't  let  him.  May  be  she's  coming  to 
bring  us  something  good." 

Moses  rose  from  the  seat  at  table  where  he  had  just 
bestowed  himself,  with  a  groan.  Ordinarily  he  would 
have  paid  little  attention  to  any  freak  of  Theodore,  but 
this  morning  he  felt  that  if  any  woman  was  approaching 
his  door  it  was  for  his  best  interest  to  conciliate  her.  A 
woman,  somehow,  just  then  seemed  to  Moses  a  most 
desirable  thing.  He  rushed  out  of  doors  hatless,  expecting 
to  see  some  woman  of  the  village  bringing,  perhaps,  a 
bowl  of  gruel  to  Mrs.  Moss.  He  was  too  much  excited 
to  discriminate,  and  seizing  a  stick  of  wood,  with  which, 
used  as  a  missile,  to  persuade  Badg  into  a  retreat, 
exclaimed  to  Theodore: 


20  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Go  into  the  house,  you  villain.  I'll  teach  you  to 
insult  a  woman." 

"I  wish  you'd  just  make  up  your  mind  where  you  want 
me,"  said  Theodore,  with  a  provoking  semblance  of 
humility.  '"Tain't  three  minutes  since  you  sent  me  out 
doors.  Guess  I'll  go  in  and  get  my  breakfast  while  the 
fit  is  on  ye." 

Moses  had  discovered  by  this  time  that  the  female  in 
question  was  a  stranger  to  him.  She  was  young,  at  least 
not  thirty,  it  seemed  to  him,  with  a  pale  and  rather  pretty 
face,  that  yet  had  a  look  of  sorrow  in  it,  which  even 
Moses'  blunt  perceptions  could  not  fail  to  notice.  She 
Avore  a  plain  gray  dress,  and  her  whole  appearance  was 
neat  and  lady-like.  She  stood  just  outside  the  gate, 
having  wisely  kept  that  defense  between  her  and  Badg's 
teeth. 

"Mornin',  ma'am,"  said  Moses,  with  as  bland  an  am 
as  he  could  assume  at  a  moment's  notice  —  "was  you 
a-corning  in?" 

"I  wished  to  stop,"  she  said  uneasily,  yet  with  a  voice 
that  must  ordinarily  be  a  very  cheerful  and  pleasant  one, 
"to  inquire  if  you  knew  of  any  one  who  needed  help.  I 
want  to  get  a  situation  as — as — a  servant" 

"Want  to  hire  out,  do  you?"  said  Moses,  easily  putting 
her  application  into  the  vernacular  of  the  district. 

"Yes,  sir,  that's  it." 

Moses  was  about  to  answer  in  the  negative,  when  a 
bold  thought  struck  him.  He  had  never  in  all  his  married 
life  hired  a  day's  work  done  in  the  house,  but  never  before, 
it  seemed  to  him,  had  things  come  to  just  such  a  desperate 
pass  as  on  this  morning.  If  this  woman's  services  could 
be  obtained,  he  felt  justified  in  employing  her;  whether 
or  not  she  was  ever  paid,  was  her  own  lookout. 

"What  wages  do  you  ask?"  inquired  Moses,  putting  on 
as  shrewd  a  look  as  he  was  capable  of. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  21 

"I'm  not  very  particular  about  wages  at  present,"  she 
said.  "I  want  to  find  a  home;  and  when  I  have  shown 
what  I  can  do,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  decide  about 
wages." 

"That's  sensible,"  said  Moses.  "'Tain't  everybody 
that  feels  so,  though.  But  you  don't  look  as  if  you  knew 
much  about  house  work." 

The  woman  waived  the  question.  "Were  you  wishing 
to  hire?"  she  asked. 

"Well,  yes,"  said  Moses,  rather  sheepishly,  "I  was 
thinkin'  of  it.  Ye  see,  my  old  woman's  sick — that  is,  she's 
laid  up,  and  what  with  the  children  and  all,  I  ain't  getting 
on  very  well.  I  don't  know's  I  can  promise  very  big  pay, 
but  if  you're  a  mind  to  come  in,  and  take  hold,  ye  can 
have  your  vittles,  least  wise  for  a  day  or  two.  After  that 
ye  can  look  around  and  do  better,  may  be." 

The  woman  looked  at  the  house.  It  was  very  humble, 
but  after  all  had  not  the  squalid  look  she  might  have 
expected  from  its  owner's  appearance.  After  a  moment's 
reflection,  she  replied: 

"I  think  I  will  stop,  thank  you;  if  your  wife  is  sick,  I 
may  at  least  be  able  to  do  her  some  good." 

Moses  opened  the  gate  with  the  look  of  a  man  who  has 
driven  a  shrewd  bargain,  and  is  well  pleased  with  himself 
therefor,  and  escorted  his  help  into  the  house. 

"You  can  sit  down,  Miss .  I  didn't  ask  your 

name." 

"Rebecca  March,"  she  replied,  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation. 

"Very  well,  Miss  March,  we  were  just  having  breakfast, 
as  you  see,  and  if  you'll  take  ofi"  your  things  you  may  as 
well  sit  up  to  the  table  with  us." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Rebecca,  "  I've  breakfasted  already. 
Perhaps  while  you  are  eating  I'd  better  go  and  sit  with 
the  sick  lady." 


22  A  WOMAN  8   SECRET. 

"Very  well,"  said  Moses,  looking  pleased,  "I'll  show 
you  in  there." 

As  they  entered  the  bed  room,  Moses  addressed  his  wife : 

"Mother,  this  is  Miss  March.  She  wants  to  hire  out  and 
ain't  particular  about  wages,  and  I  thought  I'd  have  her 
stay  here  a  day  or  two,  till  we  get  a  little  to  rights  again. 
My  name's  Moses  Moss,"  to  Miss  Rebecca,  "and  this  is 
Mrs.  Moss." 

The  introduction  thus  successfully  accomplished,  Moses 
withdrew,  leaving  the  two  women  together. 

"I'm  glad  to  see  you,  I'm  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  faintly. 
"I'm  afraid  you  won't  want  to  stay  long,  though." 

The  stranger,  with  quick,  silent,  womanly  intuitions, 
was  taking  in  the  whole  significance  of  the  scene.  The 
poor,  meager  furniture  of  the  room,  the  pale,  sick  face,  with 
its  hollow  eyes,  and  matted,  yellow  hair,  the  hard  struggle 
for  neatness  and  self-respect,  against  weakness  and  pov- 
erty, and  that  horde  of  active,  healthy,  untrained  children. 
The  hopeless  sorrow  and  dejection  of  her  face  seemed 
softened  by  a  shade.  Here,  at  least,  she  could  be  useful, 
could  win  back  confidence  in  herself  and  hei-  ability  to 
struggle  with  the  hard  problems  of  her  life.  The  energy, 
and  cheerfulness,  and  vivacity  of  her  nature,  which  some 
great  storm  of  sorrow  would  seem  to  have  over-swept  and 
paralyzed,  began  to  tremble  again  into  conscious  life  and 
action. 

"  You've  been  having  a  hard  time,"  she  said  to  Mrs. 
Moss,  after  the  latter  had  given  her  a  little  account  of  her 
illness.  "  But  you  must  give  up  all  care  now,  and  we'll 
keep  you  as  still  as  possible,  and  in  a  few  days  I  think 
you'll  be  better." 

Then  she  went  quietly  to  work  to  comb  out  the  long, 
yellow  hair,  and  put  it  up  comfortably  under  the  cap.  She 
bade  the  sufferer  be  quite  still,  while  she  gently  washed 
her  face  and  hands  with  tepid  water.  She  smoothed  the 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  23 

pillows  and  straightened  the  bed  clothes,  and  asking  a  few 
words  of  direction,  went  out  into  the  kitchen  and  made  a 
bowl  of  very  palatable  gruel.  Thus  rested  and  refreshed, 
Mrs.  Moss  declared  herself  able  to  get  a  little  sleep,  if 
left  alone.  Therefore,  breakfast  being  over  by  this  time, 
Rebecca  went  out  and  closed  the  door,  and  began  upon 
her  day's  work  in  the  kitehen. 

It  seemed  at  first  an  almost  hopeless  task  to  bring  order 
out  of  the  confusion  and  anarchy  which  Moses'  short  reign 
had  introduced.  But  that  dignitary,  glad  to  resign  his 
scepter  into  hands  apparently  so  worthy,  took  himself  off 
to  the  village  tavern,  and  left  a  clear  field  for  his  successor. 
He  couldn't  have  done  her  a  greater  favor. 

The  first  thing  necessary  was  to  organize  her  forces. 
Jane  was  set  to  washing  dishes ;  Theodore  was  cajoled, 
by  the  promise  of  sweet  cake  for  dinner,  into  sawing  wood 
with  which  to  cook  it.  The  baby  was  fed  and  put  to  sleep, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  urchins  delighted  with  the  task 
of  finding  out  how  many  noses  there  were  in  the  illustrations 
of  an  old  copy  of  Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs,  which  Rebecca 
had  found  upon  the  shelf.  It  was  a  new  idea,  and  took 
amazingly. 

"With  her  forces  so  disposed,  the  new  housemaid  set 
about  a  rigorous  process  of  sweeping,  and  dusting,  and 
scouring,  until,  by  ten  o'clock,  the  little  room  was  made  so 
neat  and  cheerful  that  one  would  scarcely  have  recognized 
it  for  the  same  disorderly,  dirty  place  she  had  entered  in 
the  morning.  The  coarse  rag  carpet  was  so  cleanly  and 
thoroughly  swept,  that  it  seemed  to  have  been  dipped  in 
new  dyes,  so  clear  and  bright  its  colors  shone.  The  paper 
curtains  at  the  windows  were  rolled  up  evenly,  and  let  in 
the  bright  spring  sunshine  over  the  floor;  the  table  and 
chairs  were  all  in  their  places ;  the  few  books  upon  the 
clock-shelf  were  well  dusted,  and  arranged  in  proper 
order.  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  Bunyan's  Pilgrim,  and 


24  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Thaddeus  of  Warsaw,  Don  Quixote,  and  The  Scottish 
Chiefs,  making  a  very  goodly  assemblage,  with  coats  so 
little  torn,  and  faded,  and  soiled,  as  to  testify  to  the  care 
which  somebody  had  exercised  over  them  during  the 
boisterous  infancy  of  all  these  children.  Whatever  else 
went  to  destruction  in  that  house,  books  were  always  held 
sacred  by  Mrs.  Moss. 

Rebecca's  face  looked  really  cheerful,  the  children  were 
good  natured,  and  even  old  Diana,  coming  in  from  her 
morning  hunt,  and  finding  that  Badg  had  been  put  out  of 
doors,  with  the  bribe  of  a  great  marrow-bone,  which  would 
keep  him  busy  for  an  hour  at  least,  lay  down  by  the  fire, 
and  after  licking  herself  into  becoming  neatness,  curled 
herself  up  for  a  nap. 

"  Do  hear  Diany,"  said  Sallie,  who  had  attended  singing 
school  all  winter.  "  When  she's  cross  she  always  purrs  in 
short  meter;  when  she's  pleased,  in  1-o-n-g  meter;  she's 
purring  real  old  long  meter  doxology  now." 

Just  then  there  was  a  cry  from  the  commentators  on  the 
martyrs,  who  were  clustered  about  a  window. 

"  Here  comes  the  doctor !     Here  comes  the  doctor !" 

Rebecca,  who  was  moulding  a  batch  of  bread  at  the 
kitchen  table,  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  turned  very 
pale.  Then  she  went  on  with  an  effort  at  composure,  just 
lifting  her  eyes  to  glance  out  at  the  shabby  old  chaise  and 
sturdy  white  horse  which  had  stopped  at  the  gate,  and 
from  which  Dr.  Gaines  alighted. 

The  doctor  opened  the  door  without  ceremony,  and 
walked  in.  He  didn't  speak  at  first,  running  his  eye  critic- 
ally over  the  details  of  the  room. 

"H'm!  H'm!"  to  himself.  Then,  with  a  civil  bow  to 
Rebecca,  "  Good  morning,  ma'am." 

"  Good  morning,"  she  replied,  commencing  to  work  her 
hands  out  of  the  dough,  for  the  purpose  of  attending  te  Him. 

"  Oh!  don't  hurry,"  said  the  doctor,  "don't hurry.     I'm 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  25 

— going — to  warm — my  hands.     Moses  isn't  at  home,  it 

seems." 

"  No,  sir.     He  went  out  after  breakfast." 

"  You're  some  relation  of  his,  I  take  it  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  H'm  !     You  go  out  nursing  ?  " 

She  hesitated  a  little  and  colored.  "Not  exactly;  I 
happened  in  here,  and  seeing  how  much  help  was  needed, 
concluded  to  remain  a  day  or  two." 

"  H'm !  What — is — your  name  ?  "  squarely,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  judicial  duty  to  ask  it. 

"  Rebecca  March,  sir." 

"  You  don't  live  around  here,  I  reckon  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

The  investigation  was  getting  painful  to  Rebecca.  The 
doctor  saw  it,  and  calculated  on  the  sooner  getting  at  what 
he  wanted  to  know. 

"  Have  lived  in  the  city,  I  judge  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  judge  so,"  she  said,  with  the 
sweet  severity  impossible  except  to  a  woman,  "unless 
because  my  manners  are  different  from  those  of  country 
people." 

By  this  time  she  had  her  hands  clear  of  the  dough,  and 
went  into  Mrs.  Moss'  room,  leaving  the  doctor  to  meditate. 
If  Miss  March  desired  ever  to  be  on  good  terms  with  the 
doctor,  she  had  greatly  periled  her  cause,  for  his  self-love 
was  very  tender,  and  his  memory  very  long.  In  one  way 
only  could  she  hope  to  make  him  forget  the  affront  she  had 
offered  him.  To  solid,  substantial  worth  he  was  never 
contumacious. 

Rebecca  found  Mrs.  Moss  awake  and  smiling;  evidently 
ehe  had  heard  the  conversation. 

"I'm  glad  you  said  it,"  she  exclaimed;  "the  doctor  is 
so  meddlesome.     But,  then,  he's  a  good  man,  and  a  first 
rate  doctor.     Let  him  come  right  in." 
B 


26  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

The  doctor  didn't  make  a  long  call.  The  door  into  the 
kitchen  was  open,  and  he  asked  no  more  questions  about 
Miss  March.  But  he  looked  around  the  bedroom, 
remarked  its  neatness,  and  the  tidy  appearance  of  the 
bed,  and  as  he  reached  the  door  going  out,  having  first 
satisfied  himself  that  Rebecca  was  not  within  hearing,  he 
said:  "I  don't  know  who  that  woman  is.  It  isn't  any 
matter.  You'd  better  keep  her  a  few  days.  Better — 
keep — her — a — few — days." 

But  the  doctor  wasn't  balked  yet.  On  his  way  home 
he  met  Moses,  and  drew  his  old  gray  horse  to  a  deliberate 
halt. 

"  That's — a — pretty  —  good  —  looking — woman  you've 
got  at  your  house,  Moses.  Who  is  she?" 

"Yes,"  said  Moses,  who  had  evidently  been  comforting 
himself  with  a  glass.  "Yes,  sir,  pretty  trim  built. 
Wants  to  hire  out.  Do  you  know  of  anybody  who  wants 
help?" 

"No,  no,"  said  the  doctor,  pensively.  I  don't  know 
of  anybody  that  wants  help.  From  the  city  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  so,  by  the  looks.  Come  along  by  my  house 
this  morning,  and  wanted  to  know  if  I  knew  anybody 
wanting  to  hire.  Things  wasn't  going  just  right — never 
do,  you  know,  when  the  woman's  laid  up —  so  I  took  her. 
Guess  she'll  do." 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  again  with  that  pensive  inflec- 
tion. "She'll  do.  She'll— do.  G'long." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  27 


HI. 


WOMAN  S    WIT. 

Dr.  Gaines  felt  an  interest  in  this  stranger.  First, 
because  she  was  a  woman,  and  the  doctor,  though  a 
bachelor,  had  a  weakness  for  women.  Second,  because 
she  was  so  pretty  a  woman,  and  so  evidently  out  of  place 
in  Moses  Moss'  cottage;  and  third,  and  not  least,  because 
the  doctor  had  for  years  been  the  best  informed  man  in 
the  town,  concerning  all  its  domestic  history,  and  he 
didn't  like  to  leave  such  a  neat  little  mystery  as  this 
unfathomed. 

Intellectual  philosophers  assert  that  all  objective  knowl- 
edge is  obtained  in  two  ways,  by  observation  and  testi- 
mony. The  latter  resource  having  failed  him,  the  doctor 
was  thrown  back  upon  observation.  Therefore,  when  he 
called  at  the  cottage  next  morning,  he  became  more  than 
usually  social,  and  prolonged  his  call  at  least  fifteen 
minutes  beyond  its  usual  limits. 

But  Rebecca  had  a  little  the  start  of  him.  She  had 
been  having  a  chat  with  Mrs.  Moss  concerning  him,  and 
was  by  this  means  well  up  in  his  peculiaiities.  It  was 
strange  how  these  two  women  seemed  to  take  to  each 
other.  Mrs.  Moss  had  had  too  much  hard  work  to  do  all 
her  life,  and  was,  besides,  for  reasons  which  will  develop 
themselves  hereafter,  too  unsocial  in  her  habits  to  be  a 
gossip.  Therefore,  if  she  thought  at  all  concerning  the 
previous  history  of  this  stranger,  she  cherished  no 
curiosity  on  the  subject.  She  knew  that  Rebecca  was 
refined  and  gentle  in  her  manners,  to  a  deerree  which  had 
never  been  possible  to  her.  She  read  in  her  face  the 
traces  of  deep  sorrow,  to  which  her  tried,  sympathetic 


28  A  WOMAN'S    SECRET. 

heart  responded  fully ;  and  she  felt,  moreover,  the  deepest 
gratitude  for  the  gentle,  womanly  help  she  had  received 
from  her.  In  her  eyes,  Rebecca  was  a  lady,  an  angel,  a 
ministering  spirit,  and  by  all  these  claims  possessed 
herself  of  the  poor  woman's  gratitude  and  admiration. 

As  for  Rebecca,  I  think  it  was  simply  the  feeling  of 
community  in  sorrow  which  drew  her  toward  Mrs.  Moss. 
In  her  helplessness  and  humility,  too,  she  felt  that  it  was 
a  great  thing  to  gain  shelter  in  a  virtuous  home,  however 
poor  it  might  be.  She  had  a  deadly  fear  of  being  ob«firved 
and  .questioned,  and  in  truth  it  had  not  been  boldness  but 
sheer  desperation  which  had  resolved  her  to  rebuff  the 
doctor  as  she  had  done.  After  he  had  gone,  the  reaction 
had  saddened  her.  Mrs.  Moss  had  even  detected  tears  in 
her  eyes,  and  a  dejection  in  her  manner  which  the  good 
woman  felt  determined  to  cheer. 

"You  mustn't  mind  the  doctor,"  she  had  said.  "He's 
the  oddest  man  living,  but  he's  very  kind.  What  do  you 
think  he  did  the  other  day,  when  he  was  down  to  New 
York?" 

Rebecca  looked  up  with  deep  interest  in  her  manner. 

"  Why,  he  found  a  poor  little  baby  on  the  street,  that  its 
cruel  mother  had  left,  and  he  just  took  it  home  with  him 
to  adopt." 

"Hasn't  he  children  of  his  own?"  asked  Rebecca,  in  a 
low  tone. 

"  Bless  you,  no.     He  ain't  married ! " 

"Who  will  take  care  of  the  baby,  then?" 

"Oh!  there's  women  enough  about  the  house.  There's 
his  mother,  old  Mrs.  Gaines,  she's  just  the  finest  woman 
in  these  parts.  A  real,  nice  woman  she  is.  And  then 
there's  Joanna,  that's  an  old  maid  sister  of  the  doctor's. 
I  wish  you  could  see  Miss  Joanna,  she's  such  a  sweet 
lady.  She's  tall  like  the  doctor,  but  not  fleshy — quite 
thin  and  so  pale  She  lost  her  lover  when  she  was  a  girl, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  29 

and  so  has  never  married.  The  doctor  has  often  said  that 
Joanna  ought  to  marry,  just  to  have  a  baby.  He's  so  fond 
of  children.  And  then  he  says  every  woman  needa 
the  care  and  company  of  children  to  make  them  really 
women.  I  reckon  he  was  thinking  of  Joanna,  as  much  as 
anybody,  when  he  took  that  baby." 

"And  how  was  Joanna  pleased?' 

"Lucretia,  that's  their  hired  girl,  she's  been  with 'em 
thirty  years  or  more,  said  it  was  the  queerest  sight  to  see 
her.  First,  she  seemed  to  be  afraid  to  handle  it,  for  fear 
'twould  break,  and  she  was  as  bashful  about  it  as  a  young 
girl ;  but  after  a  little  she  got  used  to  it,  and  now  she 
takes  all  manner  of  care  of  it.  Day  nor  night  she  won't 
never  let  it  out  of  her  sight.  She's  got  a  little  crib  for 
it,  and  it  sleeps  right  in  front  of  her  bed,  and  there's  no 
end  to  the  pretty  clothes  she's  making  for  it.  Lucretia 
says  it  seems  as  if  she's  grown  ten  years  younger 
already.  And  there's  such  a  pretty  color  a-comin'  into 
her  face." 

Rebecca's  face  was  very  pale.  She  couldn't  speak,  so 
she  hushed  the  wailing,  year  old  babe,  in  her  arms,  and 
began  to  walk  with  it  up  and  down  the  room,  holding  it 
so  tightly,  oh !  so  tightly,  to  her  breast. 

Mrs.  Moss  went  on:  "The  doctor  is  so  fond  of  his 
mother  and  sister — he  just  thinks  his  two  eyes  of  'em. 
Never  says  much,  but  then  he's  so  careful  of  'em.  For 
that  matter,  Dr.  Gaines  knows  the  most  about  women  of 
any  man  I  ever  saw.  It  seems  to  me,  sometimes,  that 
most  men  are  born  fools,  or  else  stark,  staring  mad,  about 
women.  They'll  be  sensible  enough  about  everything* 
else,  but  when  they  come  to  that  one  thing,  they  act  just 
as  if  they  hadn't  eyes  in  their  head  nor  understanding  in 
their  brains;  and  they  mean  well  enough,  too,  a  good 
many  times.  The  Lord  help  'em." 

This  last  exclamation  was  spoken  in  such  an  earnest, 


30  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

heartfelt  way,  that  Rebecca,  in  spite  of  herself,  was  forced 
to  smile. 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  was,"  continued  Mrs.  Moss,  "  that 
made  the  doctor  so  different  from  other  men,  'less  'twas 
having  such  a  mother.  I  tell  you,  to  make  a  first-rate  man 
you've  got  to  give  him  a  first-rate  mother.  Then,  being  a 
doctor,  and  setting  so  much  by  Joanna,  that's  been  a  help 
to  him,  till  it  just  seems  as  if  there  wasn't  nothing  about  a 
woman  that  he  didn't  know.  He  can  just  tell  when  they 
need  medicine,  and  when  they  need  kind  o'  pityin',  and  when 
they  need  cheerin'  up  with  a  bright  word  or  a  pleasant 
smile.  'Pears  to  me,  if  more  men  knew  as  much,  there 
wouldn't  be  so  many  miserable,  broken-down  women  in 
the  world.  But,  then,  as  I  was  saying,  he's  dreadful 
inquisitive.  I  do  think  he  got  the  habit  prying  into  all 
the  causes  of  his  patient's  sickness ;  for  what  makes  folks 
sick  ain't  often  on  the  surface,  to  my  way  o'  thinkin',  and 
the  doctor  is  awful  inquisitive;  but,  then,  he  don't  mean 
no  harm,  and  he  don't  often  say  much.  If  I  had  a  secret 
that  I  really  wanted  to  keep,  I  should  think  a  pretty  good- 
way  to  do  it  would  be  to  tell  it  to  the  doctor,  for  then  he'd 
stop  prying ;  and,  if  you  told  him  in  confidence,  two  yoke 
of  oxen  couldn't  draw  it  out  of  him." 

If  this  had  been  said  as  a  suggestion,  it  failed  of  its 
intended  effect,  for  Rebecca  only  held  the  child  closer  to 
her  bosom,  and  continued  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room, 
her  face  retaining  its  fixed,  steady  look. 

Yet,  somehow,  this  long  gossiping  talk  with  Mrs.  Moss 
had  softened  Rebecca's  heart  toward  the  doctor.  The 
look  of  sickening,  deathly  anxiety  faded  from  her  eyes, 
and  if  her  nights  were  sometimes  spent  in  weeping,  she 
had  yet  courage  and  cheerfulness,  during  the  day,  to 
brighten  up  that  somber  home  with  the  soft,  spiritual 
illumination  which  only  the  presence  of  a  gentle,  loving 
woman  can  supply,  and  make  the  place  seem  nearer  heaven 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  31 

to  Moses  Moss  than  any  he  could  remember  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  life,  unless,  perhaps,  the  warmth  and  shelter 
of  his  mother's  bosom,  or  his  own  home  during  those  first 
months  or  years  before  the  gold  of  his  man-ied  life  had 
tarnished.  For  even  Moses,  bound  thrall  that  he  was  to 
his  slavish,  sensual  appetites,  could  remember  rare  occa- 
sions on  which  he  had  turned  his  soul  sunwards  and  caught 
<ilinipses,  through  his  dimmed  and  bleared  vision,  of  a 
spiritual  light  and  beauty,  of  which  his  ordinary  life  was 
very  bare.  These  scanty  flashes  of  illumination  occurred 
while  the  priestess  at  his  altar  retained  the  spiritual 
strength  and  freshness  of  her  youth,  before  years  of  ignor- 
ant and  profane  handling  had  converted  her  from  a  house- 
hold divinity  to  a  household  drudge. 

This  pure  womanly  presence  brought  with  it,  its  insepa- 
rable blessings  of  light,  and  life,  and  love.  Moses  felt  the 
stirring  of  faint  regrets  and  ancient  tendernesses  toward 
his  patient,  suffering  wife.  The  clean,  well-ordered  home, 
weaned  him,  for  the  time,  from  his  tavern  haunts ;  the 
children,  awed  or  coaxed  into  submission  by  the  cheerful 
Rebecca,  became  once  more  his  delight ;  and  poor  Rachel, 
lying  upon  her  bed,  felt  an  unexpected  strain  of  sweetness 
flowing  into  her  life,  and  silently  thanked  God. 

The  days  had  grown  to  weeks  ;  Rachel  was  sitting  up, 
and  began  to  talk  of  taking  hold  of  household  tasks  again. 

"  Do  you  keep  still,"  said  Rebecca,  quietly  ;  "  I  require 
no  wages  of  you,  and  the  food  I  eat  is  no  loss  to  the 
family,  for  you'd  not  be  a  bit  more  forehanded  six  months 
from  now,  if  I  were  away.  In  fact,  I  rather  think,  by 
superior  economy,  I  save  you  more  than  that  amount. 
There  may  not  come  such  a  season  of  rest  to  you  again 
for  years.  Therefore  keep  quiet.  I'll  be  answerable  for 
Mr.  Moss'  good  behavior;  and  do  you  give  yourself  time 
to  get  back  a  little  of  your  wasted  youth." 

The  doctor,  who  still  dropped  in  once  or  twice  a  week, 


82  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

confirmed  this  advice,  talking  over  the  matter  in  a  quiet 
way,  which  brought  out  the  fact  that,  though  Rebecca  had 
not  lost  sight  of  her  original  intention  of  going  out  to 
service,  she  was  not  in  immediate  or  pressing  need  of 
doing  so.  The  doctor  had  not  forgotten  to  pursue  his 
laudable  researches,  and  while  he  sat  gossiping  in  Mrs. 
Moss'  kitchen,  he  bent  a  very  penetrating  eye  upon  Miss 
March.  Looking  upon  her  in  that  shrewd  and  practiced 
way  of  his,  he  saw,  or  fancied  he  did,  something  which 
set  the  wheels  of  conjecture  buzzing  in  his  brain — an 
intangible  something  that  suggested  dumbly,  like  a  pre- 
monition, that,  in  the  sacred  temple  of  Love,  all  gates  of 
mystery  had  been  swung  wide  to  her.  Nay,  as  she  bent 
over  the  cradle  of  the  infant  Moss,  it  became  evident  to 
his  acute  vision,  that  at  some  time  she  must  so  have  bent 
over  a  cradle  whose  occupant  was  bone  of  her  bone  and 
flesh  of  her  flesh.  Out  of  her  eyes  had  gone  mother- 
beams;  her  lips  had  curved  to  mother-smiles;  her  hands 
had  the  true  and  unmistakable  mother-touch. 

"  Ho  !  Ho ! "  mused  the  doctor.  "Ho — ho — ho — strange ! 
A  strange  thing !  Don't  understand  it.  It — ain't — all — 
right ! " 

With  this  view  of  things  impressed  upon  his  mind,  it 
was  no  wonder  that  he  entered  the  Moss  kitchen  one 
morning,  a  week  later,  with  a  grave  brow. 

Mrs.  Moss  was  busy  washing  the  breakfast  dishes.  Re- 
becca was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Waiting  a  few  moments 
for  her  to  appear  of  herself,  he  finally  asked : 

"Where  is  Rebecca?" 

"  Up  stairs,  I  guess.     Shall  I  call  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  with  profound  gravity.  "  You 
like  her,  don't  you  ?  You  think  she's  a  good  woman  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  with  emphasis.  "  She's 
an  angel.  You  just  ask  Mr.  Moss  ;  he'll  tell  you.  And 
she's  the  best  nurse  I  ever  saw." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  38 

"  Good  to  the  children,"  the  doctor  suggested,  rather 
than  asked. 

"  Why,  they  love  her  better'ii  they  do  me,  I  really 
believe.  And  you  know  children  ain't  fools  about  who's 
good  to  'em." 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  doctor,  still  very  grave  ;  "  children 
are  good  judges  of  human  nature;  good  judges." 

By  this  time  Rebecca  made  her  appearance,  looking 
rather  sad  and  troubled.  In  truth,  the  question  of  what 
was  to  be  her  next  step  in  life,  had  weighed  heavily  upon 
her  mind,  for  the  past  few  days.  She  had  learned  to  be 
amused  by  the  doctor's  quaint  ways,  however,  and  she 
had  confidence  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  when  he  was 
not  too  inquisitive,  and  the  sight  of  him  unconsciously 
reassured  her.  Even  his  unusual  gravity  did  not  so  much 
alarm  her  as  it  might  have,  had  she  known  all  it  imported  ; 
and  she  shook  hands  «-ith  him,  and  sat  down  to  her  sewing, 
a  dress  for  Belindy,  in  a  quite  unconscious  way. 

"  H'm ! "  commenced  the  doctor,  drawing  his  chair  a 
hitch  nearer  to  her.  "  I  want  to  ask  you  a  few  questions. 
You  said  you  were  looking  for  employment  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir," — quite  steadily. 

"  What  are  you  willing  to  do  ?  " 

"  Anything,  sir,  that  is  honorable  and  remunerative." 

"  I  see  you  are  not  so  particular  as  some  that  have  less 
right  to  be.  Unless — H'm  !  Are  you  a  married  woman  ?" 

A  quick  flush  passed  over  Rebecca's  face. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  so  low  and  so  unsteady 
that  the  doctor's  heart  trembled  a  little,  for  sympathy. 
But  he  had  a  higher  motive  than  curiosity  now,  and  was 
not  to  be  baffled  by  a  bit  of  womanly  weakness.  He  paused 
a  moment. 

"  A  widow,  perhaps  ?  " 

Rebecca  looked  up  at  him  with  a  dumb,  helpless  look  in 
her  eves.  He  knew  what  it  meant.  It  Avas  a  moment  of 


34  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

moral  weakness.  Should  she  tell  him  the  truth  or  no?  Or 
would  he  relent  and  withdraw  his  question?  The  doctor 
was  inexorable.  He  was  pushing  her  sorely.  He  knew 
it,  and  she  knew  that  he  knew  it.  He  thought  that  he 
held  the  advantage,  and  he  meant  to  wield  it. 

What  men  call  woman's  wit,  is  not  wit  at  all,  but,  in 
ninety-nine  cases  out  of  one  hundred,  merely  the  instinct 
of  self-preservation.  She  holds  the  best  and  purest  gifts 
entrusted  to  the  race.  By  the  very  nature  of  her  consti- 
tution, she  has  no  physical  strength  wherewith  to  defend 
them ;  but  she  has  something  more  potent,  the  direct  gift 
of  God,  for  her  defense.  The  doe,  you  know,  is  safe  from 
the  hunter's  dog  while  the  fawn  follows  her. 

"A  widow,  perhaps?"  said  the  doctor. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Rebecca,  in  a  firm  tone,  and  yet  dropping 
her  eyes. 

The  doctor  was  instantly  convinced  of  three  things: 
That  this  was  no  woman  of  easy  virtue ;  that  she  knew 
something  which  he  never  would  find  out  by  asking  ques- 
tions ;  and  that  she  held  her  word  dearer  to  her  than  any 
mere  temporary  convenience.  The  doctor  whistled  quietly 
to  himself. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  said,  "it  is  none  of  my  business.  You 
can  nurse  sick  folks;  and — I  don't — think — you'll  steal — 
the  spoons.  I  guess  you'd  better  come  home  with  me." 

Rebecca  grew  suddenly  pale. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  said,  "  I  do  not  think  I  can  do  that." 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  doctor,  simply. 

"  Because — because,"  she  replied,  "  I  do  not  think  it  is — 
quite  the  proper  place  for  me." 

The  effort  was  apparent,  but  a  little  pricking  of  con- 
science misled  the  doctor.  His  face  grew  a  shade  graver 
as  he  said, 

"  Eh  !  Oh !  Somebody's  been  telling  you  that  I'm  a 
bachelor.  Well,  /  don't  want  your  services.  If  I  did, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  35 

you  would  be  very  wrong  in  refusing  them ;  but  I  don't. 
I  have  a  married  sister,  Mrs.  Darrell.  She  has  two  chil- 
dren—just coming  down  with  scarlet  fever.  Will  you  go 
and  help  her  take  care  of  them?" 

"  Very  willingly,"  replied  Rebecca.  "  Shall  I  get  ready 
at  once  ?  " 

"  As  soon  as  you  please.  You  needn't  ride  home  with 
i»e,  if  it  don't  suit  you.  I'll  send  Joel  down  for  you,  in 
an  hour.  Joel's  my  man.  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  Joel." 
The  doctor's  eyes  twinkled  with  suppressed  humor,  as  he 
buttoned  up  his  old  gray  overcoat,  and  prepared  to  leave. 
"  You  needn't — be — afraid — of — Joel,"  he  repeated,  as  he 
shut  the  door  after  him. 

"  It  is  my  opinion,"  said  Mrs.  Moss  to  her  husband,  that 
evening,  after  Rebecca's  departure,  "  that  the  doctor  is 
getting  a  notion  after  Miss  March." 

"  Oh  !  "  rejoined  Moses,  "  the  doctor  always  has  an  eye 
for  a  good-looking  woman.  It  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  he 
never  married ;  though,  if  he  got  a  hankerin'  after  a  woman, 
he  wouldn't  think  o'  doing  anything  about  it  before  year 
after  next." 

"  Don't  you  believe  that  about  the  doctor,"  said  Mrs. 
Moss,  positively.  "He  knows  how  to  strike  when  the 
iron's  hot,  as  well  as  the  next  man.  If  Miss  March  can 
make  out  a  straight  story  about  herself,  and  is  agreeable, 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  was  Mrs.  Dr.  Gaines  before  the 
year's  out.  When  the  doctor  has  once  made  up  his  mind, 
he's  wonderful  prompt." 

"Well,  he  might  be  about  getting  married,"  said  Moses. 
"At  any  rate,  she'd  make  a  good  wife  for  him,"  and  so  the 
subject  dropped. 


36  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


IV. 


ABOUT   MONEY-LENDING. 

Ralph  Darrell  sat  in  his  counting-room.  It  was  a  little, 
dark,  dingy  place,  at  the  back  of  his  warehouse,  with 
windows  looking  out  upon  the  great  mills  owned  by 
Darrell  &  Co.  Industrious  spiders  had  woven  their  webs 
across  the  panes,  and  what  had  been  golden  motes,  infil- 
trating the  summer  sunshine,  lay  dead  and  lifeless  now — 
mere  dust,  upon  the  ledges.  Yet,  the  place  to  its  occupant 
never  was  unseemly;  and,  indeed,  it  had  a  certain  order 
of  its  own.  The  desks  and  chairs  were  all  squarely 
placed.  It  was  swept  every  morning  by  a  man,  who,  of 
course,  was  never  troubled  by  the  reflection  that  the 
broom  might  possibly  be  usurping  an  oflice  which  properly 
belonged  to  the  scrubbing  brush.  The  great,  unpolished 
stove  gave  out  a  cheery  warmth,  and  the  papers  lying 
about  were  all  placed  in  a  manner  that  was  full  of  signifi- 
cance to  their  owner's  eyes. 

Ralph  Darrell  liked  the  place ;  it  was  his  home.  At 
the  other  end  of  the  town  stood  a  handsome  mansion, 
with  his  name  upon  the  door  plate.  His  servants  rolled 
the  walks,  and  shaved  the  lawn,  and  kept  the  shrubbery 
in  order.  His  money  had  built,  his  taste  had  furnished 
the  house  in  the  main,  though  his  wife  had,  no  doubt, 
added  a  thousand  little  decorating  touches.  That  same 
wife  of  his  —  once  Laura  Gaines  —  he  held  chiefest  among 
his  earthly  possessions.  He  was  prouder  of  her  than  of 
houses,  or  lands,  or  stocks,  or  even  of  those  great  mills 
yonder,  which  were  the  outgrowths  of  his  indomitable 
will,  ambition  and  perseverance — his  children,  so  to 
speak,  born  of  his  heart  and  his  brain,  and  nearer  akin  to 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  37 

him  than  the  four  fine  boys  and  girls  in  the  house  yonder, 
who  called  him  father,  and  reproduced,  whether  he  would 
or  not,  the  buoyancy  and  lightheartedness  of  his  own 
youth.  He  was  proud  of  them,  also ;  fond  of  them,  in  a 
certain  way.  He  would  have  told  you  that  he  was  spend- 
ing all  his  days,  and  almost  nights,  in  that  dim  place  for 
their  sakes;  believed  it,  too,  himself;  but  I  think  his  good 
angel  signed  over  the  hallucination,  and  credited  most  of 
his  self-sacrifice  merely  to  his  love  for  those  children  of 
stone  out  yonder. 

So  this,  after  all,  was  Ralph  Dan-ell's  home.  Here  he 
was  most  truly  himself,  felt  most  at  his  ease,  at  best  com- 
mand of  all  the  faculties  upon  which  he  most  prided 
himself.  If  I  sketch  him  for  you  sitting  in  his  arm  chair, 
with  a  Market  Report  in  his  hand,  and  a  pen  over  his  ear, 
the  portrait  will  be  characteristic.  You  will  like  him; 
everybody  did  like  Ralph  Darrell.  He  was  handsome,  to 
begin  with;  of  medium  height,  with  broad  shoulders,  a 
fair,  open  physiognomy,  the  nose  a  little  too  retrousst  for 
perfect  beauty ;  but  imparting  a  piquant,  wide-awake  look, 
far  more  in  consonance  with  his  character  of  a  first  rate 
business  man.  His  eyes  were  large  and  very  dark — well 
set  in  his  head;  his  hair  thick,  black  and  curling;  and 
his  complexion,  clear  and  healthful.  If  he  were  a  trifle 
dyspeptic  in  his  habit,  it  was  because  of  excessive  brain 
labor,  not  from  any  constitutional  taint  or  weakness.  In 
manner,  Mr.  Darrell  was  prompt,  alert,  yet  suave,  always 
making  friends,  always  obliging  them,  yet  never  losing 
money  by  them. 

As  he  sat  there,  reading  the  Market  Report,  with  a  quiet 
gleam  of  satisfaction  in  his  eye,  a  gentleman  entered  — 
quite  a  different  sort  of  person. 

Abraham  Gladstone  was  a  taller,  larger,  in  every  way 
a  more  powerfully  built  man.  He  was  of  the  Saxon  type, 
strong,  but  fair;  with  clear,  gray  eyes,  and  features 


38  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

which,  without  being  regularly  handsome,  were  «till 
impressive.  His  manner  was  simple  but  dignified,  with 
possibly  a  trace  of  the  air  which  a  man  carries  when  he 
is  conscious  of  a  discrepancy  between  his  worth  and  his 
market  value.  If  he  had  this  air  now,  however,  it  was 
not  habitual,  but  simply  the  effect  of  coming  in  contact 
with  a  man  of  Ralph  Dan-ell's  stamp,  and  that  under 
circumstances  which  secretly  stung  his  pride  more  than 
he  would  openly  have  allowed. 

"Good  morning,  Gladstone,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Darrell, 
cordially.  "I'm  glad  to  see  you;  happy  to  congratulate 
you  upon  the  fine  plea  you  made  yesterday.  I  didn't 
hear  it  —  was  too  busy;  but  I  heard  of  it,  which  was 
better.  Everybody  praises  it.  A  good  start  you've 
made.  It's  all  right  with  you  now.  You've  only  to  hold 
fast  in  the  faith,  and  you'll  outstrip  us  all." 

Gladstone's  face  lighted  up  with  a  quiet  smile  — a  smile 
of  deep  content,  which  yet  did  not  quite  relieve  his  fea- 
tures of  their  uneasy  shade. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  was  fortunate  in  winning  that  case. 
It  has  made  me  feel  secure  in  my  profession,  which  I 
scarcely  did  before." 

"Oh  !  but  you  might  have,"  said  Darrell,  kindly.  "We 
all  knew  that  you  would  not  fail;  but  this  case  must  have 
brought  you  substantial  tokens  of  success." 

"  Yes,  the  fees  were  liberal,  and  what  is  better,  I  shall 
perhaps  gain  some  practice  from  it.  But  the  subject  of 
fees  brings  me  to  my  present  business  with  you." 

Mr.  Darrell's  face  assumed  the  bland  air  of  a  man  who 
expects  a  satisfactory  communication;  but  Mr.  Gladstone's 
manner  grew  more  and  more  uneasy. 

"  The  interest  upon  the  mortgage  which  you  hold  is  due 
to-day,  I  believe ;  yesterday,  I  had  no  doubt  of  my  ability 
to  meet  it ;  to-day,  however,  I  find  myself  compelled  to 
test  your  leniency  in  the  matter." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  30 

Mr.  Darrell's  manner  certainly  changed  by  a  shade; 
but  he  didn't  appear  in  the  least  troubled. 

"It's  only  a  small  matter,  I  believe  —  a  couple  of 
hundred  dollars,  or  thereabouts." 

Mr.  Gladstone  mentioned  the  exact  sum. 

"I  shall  pay  you  one  hundred  dollars  to-day;  the  other 
I  hope  to  be  able  to  raise  during  the  week.  Of  course  if 
is  a  very  unpleasant  necessity." 

"Oh,  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Darrell.  "A  thing  of 
that  kind  between  old  friends  is  not  worth  mentioning. 
By  the  way,  why  don't  you  get  the  money  of  the  doctor. 
I  happen  to  know  that  he  has  it  by  him;  though  pray 
don't  tell  him  I  said  that.  Of  course  I'm  always  happy 
to  oblige  a  friend,  but  this  confounded  business  keeps 
me  always  short.  It's  quite  different  with  the  old  doctor, 
you  know.  While  I  have  the  kindest  inclination  in  the 
world,  he  has  not  only  the  inclination,  but  the  power  to 
oblige  you." 

"To  tell  the  truth,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "I  thought  ot 
that;  but  the  doctor,  if  he  is  your  brother-in-law,  is  sue 
a  close  man,  I  hesitated  to  ask  him." 

Darrell  laughed,  a  frank,  rattling  kind  of  laugh. 

"Just  such  a  blunder  as  people  are  perpetually  fall 
ing  into.  Now,  you,  as  a  lawyer,  should  have  been 
wiser.  Take  my  advice,  and  go  to  the  doctor  at 
once." 

""Where  am  I  to  find  him  at  this  hour,  I  wonder?  "  half 
soliloquized  Gladstone. 

"Oh!  on  the  road,  most  likely.  You'll  know  the  old 
gray  if  you  see  it,  I  take  it." 

Abraham  Gladstone  was  not  a  man  to  ask  a  favor,  and 
be  refused,  without  knowing  it,  even  though  he  were 
turned  off  in  this  clever,  joking  way.  But  he  knew  the 
world,  too,  quite  too  well,  to  grow  sour  over  the  affront, 
unless,  indeed,  it  might  be  in  secret.  So  he  started  off, 


40  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

down  the  street,  toward  the  doctor's  office,  leaving  Darrel 
to  mutter » 

"  Now,  that's  some  freak  of  his  abominable  wife.  I'd 
rather  have  a  millstone  tied  about  my  neck,  than  such  a 
woman.  It  wouldn't  sink  a  man  half  so  surely." 

But  the  next  minute  Ralph  Darrell  was  more  deeply 
than  ever  immersed  in  his  market  report,  with  little- 
thought  of  Mr.  Gladstone's,  or  any  other  man's  domestic 
millstones. 

The  latter  was  very  fortunate  in  finding  the  doctor  just 
tying  the  old  gray's  halter  to  the  hitching  post,  in  front 
of  his  office.  It  was  with  some  perturbation  that  ho 
approached  him.  It  was  not  an  easy  thing  for  Abraham 
Gladstone  to  ask  a  favor  of  any  man ;  it  was  still  less  so, 
to  approach  in  that  way  this  man,  whom,  all  his  life,  he 
had  heard  quoted  as  a  model  of  thrift  and  close  dealing, 
and,  moreover,  of  inquisitiveness.  There  was  a  deep, 
deep  soreness  in  Abraham's  heart,  which  no  hand,  none 
whatever,  might  probe.  The  lightest  finger-tip  laid  upon 
it,  never  so  lightly,  it  seemed  to  him,  at  this  moment  must 
sting  him  to  madness. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  deliberately 
took  out  his  saddle-bags  and  ascended  the  two  or  three 
steps  which  led  to  his  office. 

Abraham  returned  the  salutation,  followed  him  up  the 
steps,  and  in  at  the  door.  Fortunately,  the  office  was 
empty. 

Inquiries  followed,  concerning  Mrs.  Gladstone's  health. 
She  was  a  patient  of  the  doctor's. 

"  We  are  tolerably  well,  thank  you,"  replied  Gladstone, 
with  as  careless  an  air  as  he  could  affect.  "  Well,  that  is, 
in  body.  The  help  I  want,  just  now,  is  help  for  the  pocket. 
Could  you  lend  me  a  hundred  dollars  this  morning,  doctor?" 

"How?  h'm ! "  said  the  doctor,  twirling  his  thumbs, 
and  looking  down  at  the  floor.  Then  raising  his  eyes  sucl- 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  41 

denly :  ''  Did  not  old  Gleason  pay  you  for  that  fine  speech 
yesterday  ?  He  ought  to  have  paid  you  well ;  paid  you — 
well — cash  down.  It  was  a  good  speech;  I — heard — it." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "  he  paid  me.  Still,  I 
need  the  hundred  dollars  all  the  same." 

The  doctor  looked  off  into  vacancy,  and  whistled. 

"  Gleason  is  an  odd  man,"  said  the  doctor.  "  When  I 
was  a  student,  riding  around  the  country  with  old  Dr. 
Skinner" — and  thereupon  he  launched  out  into  a  story, 
intended  to  demonstrate  that  Gleason  was  an  odd  man ; 
which  point,  it  is  safe  to  conclude — for  the  doctor's  stories 
always  hit  the  nail  on  the  head — was  abundantly  proved. 

At  the  close  of  it,  Mr.  Gladstone  again  gently  reminded 
the  old  gentleman  of  his  request. 

"  A  hundred  dollars !  "  said  the  doctor ;  "  that's  a  good 
deal  of  money.  I  don't  know  why  people  should  expect 
me  to  have  a  hundred  dollars  about  me,  at  any  particular 
time  they  happen  to  want  it.  I  began  life  a  poor  boy ; 
a — poor — boy.  What  my  father  left  was  barely  enough 
for  his  widow  and  the  girls ;  I  never  touched  a  penny  of 
it,  not — a — penny.  My  education  cost  me  a  pretty  scim. 
I've  never  been  anything  but  a  country  doctor.  I've  rid- 
den far,  always  for  small  fees ;  often  for  none  at  all.  My 
expenses  have  been  heavy ;  one  way  or  other,  as  heavy  as 
any  man's  in  the  town ;  and  yet  people  expect  me  always 
to  have  a  hundred  dollars  about  me,  when  I  am  asked 
for  it." 

"Oh!  if  it  isn't  convenient,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  depre- 
catingly,  annoyed,  as  men  were  apt  to  be,  at  the  doctor's 
roundabout  ways. 

"  I  didn't— say— it- wasn't— convenient,"  said  the  doctor, 
coolly ;  "  I  didn't  say  anything  about  its  not  being  con- 
venient. It  was  just  so  when  the  railroad  was  to  be 
built.  They  came  to  me,  and  wanted  to  put  me  down  for 
a  hundred  shares.  They  did  not  get  me  on  for  but  fifty. 
B2 


42  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Then,  when  they  wanted  to  start  the  new  bank,  they  came 
to  me  again,  and  fairly  urged  me  to  take  five  thousand 
dollars  of  stock.  Five — thousand — dollars,  out  of  an  old 
country  doctor.  They  said  so  much  I  took  it.  And  it's 
always  so ;  it's  always  so.  You  want  a  hundred  dollars, 
you  say  ?  " 

Yes,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  rightly  judging  that  the 
laconic  style  would  serve  him  best  under  the  circum- 
stances. 

"  It  is  about  that  interest  on  the  mortgage,  I  suppose  ?" 

The  doctor  had  taken  out  his  old  morocco  pocket-book — 
"  wallet"  he  called  it — and  was  counting  over  a  roll  of 
bills  as  he  spoke. 

"  The  same,"  said  Abraham. 

"  I  hoped  you'd  be  able  to  raise  that  without  borrowing. 
It  was  a  hard  blow  to  you,  a — mighty — hard — blow ;  and 
I  want  to  live  to  see  you  set  the  matter  right  again.  You'll 
do  it,  with  patience  and  good  management.  I'm  sorry 
you've  got  to  borrow.  Not  but  what  I'm  willing  to  lend. 
I  knew  your  father  and  your  grandfather.  He  was  a 
pretty  old  man  when  I  began  to  ride  in  my  sulky;  but  I 
remember  him  well.  That's  just  a  hundred,  I  believe — 
you  can  count  it — guess  you'll  find  it  all  right.  He  was 
a  pretty  old  man,  but  he  was  a  good  man  and  a  just  man. 
I  shouldn't  have  looked  for  any  of  his  race  to  do  the  thing 
your  father  did.  However,  that's  all  gone  by.  What  you 
have  to  do  is  to  work  hard,  and  keep  out  of  debt — if — you 
— can." 

"  Good  advice,"  said  Abraham,  with  the  air  of  a  man 
who  is  striving  to  be  cheerful  in  the  face  of  a  mortal  pain. 
"  Good  advice,  but  not  always  easy  to  follow." 

"No,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his 
gray  eyes.  "  Burns  has  it : 

'  When  awful  Beauty  summons  all  her  charms, 
Who  is  so  rash  a«  rise  in  rebel  arms  1 ' 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  43 

I  suppose,  when  a  man  is  married,  he  is  n't  always  sure  of 
himself.  Now,  is  n't  that  the  case,  Abraham  ?  " 

"  It  may  be  true  of  some  men,"  said.  Abraham,  the  forced 
composure  of  his  face  unsettling  itself  in  a  way  that  told 
the  doctor  all  that  he  cared  to  know.  "  Have  you  a  pen 
handy?  I'd  like  to  give  you  a  note  for  this." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  I'll  write  the  note.  I  didn't 
ask  you  how  long  you  wanted  the  money." 

"  I  hope  to  be  able  to  return  it  next  week." 

"  Very  well ;  then,  we'll  make  it  short  time,  say  fifteen 
days.  I  shouldn't  have  used  the  money  in  that  time,  so 
we  won't  say  anything  about  interest  on  this  note.  If,  at 
the  end  of  that  time,  you  want  to  renew,  why  I  shall  have 
to  charge  you  the  legal  rate ;  but  for  this  note,  it's  no 
matter." 

Abraham  attempted  to  insist  that  he  would  accept  no 
euch  favor,  but  the  doctor  was  firm.  He  had  known 
Abraham's  grandfather,  had  liked  him,  and  that  settled  it. 
Furthermore,  the  doctor  had  satisfied  himself  of  the  reason 
of  Abraham's  unfortunate  necessity.  As  the  latter,  with 
many  thanks,  bade  him  good  morning  and  closed  the 
door,  the  old  man  soliloquized : 

"It's  my  opinion  she  does  make  him  stand  up  and  — 
read  —  awfully" 

Half  a  mile  out  of  the  town  was  the  old  Gladstone 
place.  It  was  a  fine  estate,  and  had  remained  in  possession 
of  the  same  family  for  four  generations.  For  a  hundred 
years,  therefore,  the  Gladstones  had  been  honorably 
identified  with  the  local  interests  of  Wyndham.  The  grand- 
i'ather  of  Abraham  had  been  a  judge  of  the  county  court, 
and  his  father,  though  following  no  profession,  and  spend- 
ing his  days  as  a  quiet  agriculturalist,  had  held  many  offices 
of  trust  and  responsibility,  both  in  town  and  county.  His 
first  wife  had  died  childless,  a  few  years  after  their  mar- 
riage. He  remained  a  widower  for  several  years,  but,  at 


44  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  age  of  forty,  married  again ;  the  lady  of  his  choice 
being  a  widow,  of  gentle  breeding  and  amiable  disposition. 
She  brought  with  her,  to  her  new  home,  a  son  by  her  fir.st 
marriage,  a  child  of  two  or  three  years.  Abraham's  birth 
occurred  during  the  first  year;  so  that  the  two  boys  grew 
up  together  so  much  like  brothers,  that,  until  they  were 
nearly  grown,  they  scarcely  felt  that  there  was  any  dis- 
tinction between  them.  But  the  elder  of  the  two  proved 
to  have  inherited  a  very  different  character  from  that  of 
his  half  brother.  He  had  always  been  an  ambitious,  head- 
strong child,  and  had  caused  his  mother  many  forebodings. 
Manhood,  instead  of  softening  and  refining  him,  as  she 
had  hoped  it  might,  seemed  only  to  develop  and  intensify 
his  violence  and  selfishness.  He  was  handsome,  cultivated) 
with  a  haughty,  imperious  manner,  which,  at  a  distance, 
was  quite  imposing;  but  his  moral  nature  seemed  in 
hopeless  subjection  to  vices. 

At  twenty-one,  having  finished  the  education  which  the 
generosity  of  his  step-father  had  bestowed  upon  him,  ht 
left  home  to  pursue  his  fortunes.  Abraham  had  chosen 
the  profession  of  his  grandfather,  was  in  due  time  admitted 
to  the  bar,  and  soon  after  married  Melissa  Bowditch,  a 
pretty  blonde,  of  manners  unusually  quiet  and  self-pos- 
sessed, and,  in  the  popular  estimation,  a  paragon  of  virtue, 
the  epitome  of  all  the  saintly  graces.  But  the  little  woman 
proved  to  have  her  whims,  one  of  which  involved  a  long 
pleasure  tour,  and  a  few  weeks  at  a  fashionable  summer 
resort.  During  the  absence  of  the  young  people,  old  Mr. 
Gladstone  was  taken  ill;  not  dangerously,  but  still  so 
seriously  that  his  step-son,  hearing  the  state  of  affairs, 
came  home  to  attend  him.  Unexpectedly  to  all,  the  old 
gentleman's  illness  assumed  an  alarming  form,  and  before 
Abraham  and  his  wife  could  reach  home  he  was  quite 
beyond  help,  nearly  senseless,  indeed. 

After  his  death,  it  was  found  that,  during  Abraham's 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  4& 

absence,  he  had  made  a  will,  by  which  his  heir  was  bur- 
thened  with  a  legacy  to  his  half-brother,  which,  together 
with  the  unfortunate  issue  of  certain  speculations,  would 
oblige  him  to  mortgage  the  estate  for  by  far  the  greater 
part  of  its  value.  There  were  plenty  of  friends  to  advise 
Abraham  to  contest  the  will;  but  the  young  man  had 
sustained  a  great  blow  in  the  death  of  his  then  only  remain- 
ing parent.  To  his  tender  conscience  it  seemed  almost  a 
crime  that  he  should  have  been  absent  during  his  father's 
last  days ;  a  crime  but  too  slightly  expiated  by  the  sacrifice 
of  the  half  of  his  fortune.  He  had,  too,  a  sense  of  personal 
honor,  both  rare  and  fine,  which  forbade  him  utterly  to 
regret,  much  less  to  strive  to  undermine,  the  good  fortune 
of  his  half-brother.  These  events,  it  is  true,  struck  a 
gloom  over  his  whole  life ;  but  he,  nevertheless,  prepared 
at  once  to  close  the  old  house,  every  room  of  which  was 
dear  to  him,  and  remove  to  a  small  tenement  in  the  village 
where,  unencumbered  by  the  care  of  his  farm,  which  h* 
had  rented  to  a  responsible  tenant,  he  might  devote  him- 
self rigorously  to  the  duties  of  his  profession. 

All  this  was  sad  enough,  in  itself,  but  the  deeper  mis- 
fortune of  his  life  Abraham  Gladstone  bore  in  uncomplain- 
ing silence.  He  was  a  man  to  meet  trouble  bravely,  with 
essentially  masculine  fortitude  and  strength.  Let  only  his 
home  fire  burn  brightly,  grant  him  but  that  sanctuary  from 
earthly  care,  that  shekinah  of  heaven's  peace,  the  shelter 
of  a  true  woman's  love,  and  he  would  have  faced  adversity 
not  only  boldly  but  cheerfully,  and  with  joyous  courage. 

Those  who  knew  Abraham  Gladstone  well,  felt,  though 
they  were  never  told,  that  he  had  failed  of  this  blessing. 


46  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


V. 

A    WOMAN   WHO   WAS   NOT   STRONG-MINDED. 

Mrs.  Abraham  Gladstone  was  a  small,  blonde  woman, 
of  a  not  uncommon  type.  Her  features  were  delicate, 
and  not  devoid  of  beauty.  Her  figure  was  slight,  but  not 
angular.  It  had  even  a  sort  of  roundness,  which,  at  least 
when  she  was  well  made  up,  gave  her  some  show  of  per- 
sonal comeliness.  I  am  particular  about  this  point,  because 
the  least  detraction  from  her  muscular  and  adipose  tissues 
would  have  indicated  a  nervousness  of  temperament  which 
she  did  not  possess,  and  the  slightest  addition  thereto 
would  have  given  a  strength  of  fiber  also  foreign  to  her 
nature.  In  mental  characteristics  she  steered  equally  clear 
of  extremes.  To  creative  power  she  made  no  pretension, 
but  her  perceptions  were  acute,  and,  in  certain  small  mat- 
ters, she  was  distinguished  by  a  nice  discernment,  and  a 
patient  faculty  of  imitation,  both  rare  and  admirable. 
These  gifts  indicated  her  true  sphere  of  endeavor,  and, 
with  proper  moral  and  affectional  balance,  she  might  have 
filled  a  most  useful,  if  not  conspicuous  position  In  the 
world. 

The  typical  characteristic  of  all  such  women  is,  that 
while  they  are  defective  in  energy  or  power  to  do  for 
themselves,  they  have  a  certain  not  very  delicate  craft, 
united  to  a  most  dogged  persistency,  which  compels  others, 
out  of  sheer  weariness,  to  do  for  them  whatever  need? 
force,  or  broad  capacity,  or  will.  They  will  give,  in  return, 
great  largesse  of  their  small  wares,  and  so  make  good 
wives  for  strong  handed,  domineering  men.  I  always 
thought  the  Savior  had  a  small,  blonde  woman  in  his  eye, 
when  he  spoke  the  parable  of  the  Unjust  Judge. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  47 

To  the  characteristics  of  her  class,  Mrs.  Gladstone  added 
some  purely  personal  qualities,  which  will  develop  them- 
selves hereafter.  For  the  rest,  she  was  the  only  child  of 
a  widow,  who,  during  the  lifetime  of  her  husband,  had 
been  able  to  live  in  a  style  bordering  on  elegance.  At  hi5* 
death,  however,  she  had  found  herself  much  reduced  in 
means,  and  when,  shortly  after,  Abraham  Gladstone  had 
proposed  for  the  hand  of  Melissa,  it  had  been  regarded, 
by  both  mother  and  daughter,  as  a  most  fortunate  circum- 
stance. Could'  any  prophet  have  revealed  to  their  gaze 
the  events  of  the  next  few  years,  it  is  quite  possible  that 
their  decision  might  have  been  reversed ;  though,  as  eligible 
matches  were  somewhat  scarce  in  the  vicinity,  and  Melis- 
sa's attractions  not  by  any  means  overpowering,  it  is  also 
possible  that  she  would  have  taken  the  chances,  although, 
no  doubt,  with  vastly  diminished  self-gratulations. 

As  it  was,  she  entered  into  the  contract.  After  the 
change  in  affairs,  nothing  was  left  to  her  but  to  see  to  it 
that  she  exacted  as  much  as  possible  of  the  original  price. 
She  had  shed  a  great  many  tears  and  been  seriously 
threatened  with  a  decline,  when  the  subject  of  shutting 
up  the  great  house,  and  removing  to  the  small  one  in  the 
village,  had  been  discussed,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  On 
this  point  Abraham  was  inflexible.  His  entire  style  of 
living  must  be  changed ;  to  do  it  successfully,  he  must 
commence  at  the  foundation,  and  renounce,  at  least  for 
the  time,  all  the  prestige  of  the  old  place  and  its  associa- 
tions, which,  dear  as  they  might  be  and  were  to  him, 
would  yet  prove  so  many  taxes  upon  his  income.  Besides 
that,  he  was  to  become  a  business  man,  and  he  must  live 
near  his  business.  He  could  now  afford  to  keep  no  horse, 
and  it  was  a  long  walk  from  his  office  to  the  old  mansion. 
He  had,  at  first,  insisted  that  Melissa  should  employ  a 
well  trained  servant,  and,  indeed,  would  have  much  pre- 
ferred that  she  should  do  so.  But  that  lady,  after  a  few 


48  f    A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

months  trial,  herself  decided  to  relinquish  the  luxury,  and 
keep  instead  a  little  bound  girl,  about  ten  years  old,  partly 
to  make  a  martyr  of  herself,  in  the  eyes  of  her  neighbors, 
and  partly  because  she  found  the  difference  in  cost  of 
great  aid  in  her  personal  expenditures. 

The  one  strong  thing  in  Mrs.  Gladstone's  character,  was 
her  love  of  dress.  This  was  the  Moloch  to  which  every- 
thing else,  even  the  holiest  and  tenderest  emotions  of  her 
nature,  were  sacrificed.  Yet  she  never  gossiped  about 
dress,  as  some  women  do ;  in  fact,  she  never  gossiped  in 
a  gossiping  way  about  anything.  It  is  true  that  she  knew 
the  exact  contents  of  the  wardrobe  of  every  woman  in  town, 
if  it  were  a  fact  at  all  worth  knowing,  and  could  tell,  to  a 
farthing,  the  cost  of  any  separate  article ;  but  a  habit  of 
silent  observation,  or  still  more  wary  listening,  or,  as  the 
utmost  extent  of  her  visible  effort,  the  knack  of  putting 
exactly  the  right  question  in  exactly  the  right  place, 
accounted  for  this. 

On  the  same  day  when,  as  we  have  seen,  her  husband 
was  reduced  to  so  unpleasant  a  financial  strait,  Mrs. 
Abraham  Gladstone  sat  in  her  small  sitting-room,  in  high 
consultation  with  her  dress-maker.  A  pattern  of  elegant 
silk  lay  upon  the  table,  and  was  evidently  the  article  under 
discussion. 

"Nothing  less  than  web  velvet,  the  exact  shade,  will 
do  for  the  trimming,"  said  Miss  Burdick,  emphatically. 
"A  band  around  the  skirt,  now  —  say  half  a  yard  wide  — 
would  be  el-e-gant.  It  would  cost  a  good  deal,  though." 

"  It  might  be  trimmed  with  lace,"  said  Mrs.  Gladstone. 

"  But  the  skirt?"  queried  Miss  Burdick;  "narrow  lace  is 
not  elegant  on  a  skirt." 

"A  lace  flounce,  then,' 

Miss  Burdick  was  silent,  evidently  astonished. 

"  There  isn't  a  lace  flounce  in  this  town,"  she  said. 

Mrs.  Gladstone  was  not  in  the  least  moved  by  this  asser- 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  49 

tion,  but  rose  quietly,  went  to  her  upper  bureau  drawer, 
and  took  therefrom  a  small  package.  Sitting  down  again, 
she  unfolded  it,  and  displayed  to  the  astonished  eyes  of 
Miss  Burdick  the  very  thing  in  question,  a  moderately 
wide  flounce,  of  real,  unquestionable  Brussels  lace. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Gladstone,  but  you  are  the  beater.  Where 
did  you  get  it  ?  " 

At  this  juncture  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs.  Bowditch 
entered.  She  spied  the  dress  pattern  upon  the  table,  and 
exclaimed : 

"What,  another  new  silk  dress,  Melissa?  And  how 
handsome  !  Just  your  shade  of  blue,  exactly !  Where 
did  you  get  it?  Parker  hasn't  had  such  a  piece  of  goods 
as  that  for  six  months,  I  know." 

"  I  sent  down  to  New  York,  by  him,  for  it,  just  before 
Christmas,"  said  Mrs.  Gladstone,  quietly. 

"  And  you've  had  it  in  the  house  all  this  time,  and  never 
told  me.  What  a  sly  thing  you  are." 

Mrs.  Bowditch  laughed,  and  looked  merry,  as  if  to  be  a 
sly  thing  were  the  greatest  distinction  upon  which  one 
could  be  complimented. 

"  But  you  hav'n't  seen  the  wonder  of  all,"  interrupted 
Miss  Burdick,  who  was  aching  to  learn  by  what  means 
that  lace  flounce  got  into  Mrs.  Gladstone's  possession. 
"  Look  at  that ! " 

Mrs.  Bowditch  looked — held  up  her  hands — exclaimed: 

"  Well,  I  never !  Melissa  Bowditch,  where  did  you  get 
it:"' 

"Just  the  very  words  I  said,"  ejaculated  Miss  Burdick. 
"  There  ain't  another  woman  in  town  would  have  thought 
of  such  a  thing." 

"  You're  mistaken  there,"  said  Mrs.  Gladstone,  quietly. 

"  The  idea  isn't  original  with  me.     I  happened  to  know, 

though  it  was  a  great  secret,  that  Mrs.  Ellery  bought  this 

flounce  the  last  time  she  went  to  New  York,  before  the 

C 


50  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Judge  died.  Of  course,  when  she  went  into  mourning, 
she  couldn't  wear  it,  and  as  she  says"  with  an  emphasis 
that,  from  any  other  lips  than  the  sweetly  serene  ones  of 
Mrs.  Gladstone,  would  have  been  spiteful,  "  that  she 
never  intends  to  resume  colors  again,  of  course  she  was 
willing  to  sell  it,  and  at  quite  a  bargain." 

"What  did  you  have  to  pay  her?"  asked  Miss  Burdick. 

"  A  hundred  dollars." 

"  A  hundred  dollars !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bowditch.  "Why, 
Melissa,  how  did  you  get  the  money  out  of  Abraham  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  good  deal  to  pay,  to  be  sure,  but  then,  it  is  real 
Brussels,  and  will  last  a  lifetime.  On  the  whole,  I  think 
it  an  excellent  bargain,  and  so,  I  am  sure,  will  Mr.  Glad- 
stone, when  he  sees  it." 

"  Oh !  then  he  don't  know  about  it,"  said  Miss  Burdick, 
who  was,  to  use  a  characteristic  expression  of  her  own, 
'•  on  pins  and  needles."  „ 

"Mr.  Gladstone  has  too  much  business  to  attend  to, 
now-a-days,  to  be  interested  in  the  minutia?  of  my  shop- 
ping. He  generally  makes  me  an  allowance  for  household 
purposes,  out  of  which  I  must  manage  to  clothe  myself. 
In  our  present  straitened  circumstances,  I  have,  of  course, 
to  be,  as  a  general  thing,  very  economical.  But  he  has 
made  a  good  deal  out  of  the  Gleason  case,  and  very  natu- 
rally felt  like  making  me  some  little  present.  Mr.  Gladstone 
appreciates  my  trials." 

"  Well,  I  must  say,"  said  Miss  Burdick,  "  I  do  think  you 
have  got  the  kindest  husband  in  this  town.  I  don't  believe 
there's  another  man  in  it  would  have  humored  his  wife  so." 

Mrs.  Gladstone  did  not  look  in  the  least  elated,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  rather  resigned;  as  if  Miss  Burdick  was  far 
from  comprehending  the  real  state  of  the  case  —  as  indeed 
she  was  —  and  she,  Mrs.  Gladstone,  was  too  uncomplaining 
a  martyr  to  enlighten  her. 

Miss  Burdick  made  an  appointment  for  a  day  of  next 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  51 

week,  and  then  took  her  leave,  to  electrify  the  gossips  of 
the  town  with  the  information  that  Mrs.  Gladstone  had  a 
new  silk  awaiting  her  scissors,  which  was  to  be  trimmed 
with  a  real  Brussels  flounce. 

"  Well,"  said  one,  "  I  suppose  she  feels  as  if  she  ought 
to  keep  up  her  position  in  society  as  well  as  she  can.  It 
must  be  hard  for  her  to  give  up  so  many  things  she  used 
to  be  accustomed  to ;  but,  I  must*say,  she  bears  it  very 
quietly.  She  seems  quite  resigned." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  another,  "for  I 
really  never  could  make  out  much  about  her.  When  she 
was  Melissa  Bowditch,  she  never  was  like  other  girls, 
frank  and  outspoken,  you  know;  yet,  if  I  ever  suspected 
her,  as  I  sometimes  did,  of  being  the  slyest,  craftiest  jade 
that  ever  lived,  the  very  next  time  I  saw  her  she  was 
sure  to  be  so  sweet,  so  serene,  so,  as  you  say,  '  resigned,' 
that  I  was  ready  to  put  myself  to  torture  for  having 
judged  her  so  harshly.  I  always  did  think,  I'm  sure  I 
don't  know  why,  that  she  married  Gladstone  for  his 
money,  and  when  it  came  out  that  he  had  lost  his  fortune, 
I  expected  she'd  be  terribly  cut  up;  but  if  she  was,  she 
has  kept  it  mightily  to  herself.  The  only  line  she  ever 
gives  one  to  measure  her  afflictions  with,  is  the  length  of 
her  submissive  face." 

There  was  a  laugh,  but  nobody  dissented  from  this 
certainly  not  very  flattering  estimate. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Bowditch  was  diving  more  deeply  into 
the  mystery  of  the  lace  flounce. 

"Melissa,"  she  said,  "you  must  have  about  worried 
Abraham  to  death  before  he  gave  you  that  money.  How 
did  you  get  it  out  of  him  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I've  worried  him  particularly.  He 
knows  very  well  that  if  I  am  to  go  into  society  at  all,  I 
must  have  clothes  to  wear,  and  I  fancy  he  don't  care  to 
see  me  make  a  recluse  of  myself." 


52  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Oh!"  said  the  mother,  new  light  breaking  at  once 
into  her  mind.  "That's  why  you  didn't  go  to  Mrs. 
Smith's  party  last  winter,  nor  Mrs.  Darrell's,  nor  to  church 
for  the  last  month.  Well,  I  declare,  MeUie,  you  are  a 
schemer.  It  takes  you  to  turn  that  man  around  your  little 
finger.  How  many  times  a  day  have  you  reminded  him 
of  that  money,  for  the  last  three  months;  on  the  average, 
I  mean?" 

"As  nearly  as  I  can  judge,"  said  Mrs.  Gladstone,  oh! 
so  very  quietly,  "  about  three.  I've  had  to  work  rather 
harder  than  I  ever  did  before,  but  I^ve  got  it" 

"  I'd  like  to  see  the  thing  you  wouldn't  get,  if  you  set 
your  heart  on  it.  I  wonder  if  you  could  manage  all  men 
as  you  do  him.  I'm  inclined  to  think  some  of  them  would 
tell  you  to  hold  your  tongue." 

"  Very  well.    Talking  is  not  my  forte.    I  prefer  silence." 

Mrs.  Bowditch  understood  this  perfectly.  The  memory 
still  remained  to  her  of  times  in  Melissa's  maiden  days, 
when  she  had  been  refused  a  new  bonnet  or  a  darling 
pocket  handkerchief,  and  had  made  the  house  redolent  of 
injured  innocence  for  days  thereafter.  Therefore,  fearful 
of  wounding  the  dear  creature's  sensibilities,  she  pursued 
the  subject  no  further,  but  turned  to  a  more  edifying  one. 

"  Where  is  dear  little  Echo  ?  "  she  asked.  Echo  was  a 
pet  poodle.  If  there  was  anything  in  life  Avhich  Mrs. 
Gladstone  loved,  and  about  which  she  sentimentalized,  it 
was  Echo.  It  could  not  have  been  his  beauty  which 
made  him  so  dear,  for  he  was  decidedly  ugly,  even  for  a 
poodle;  it  could  not  have  been  his  meek  disposition,  for 
he  snapped  and  snarled  at  everybody,  except  his  doting 
mistress,  and  even  she  was  not  always  sure  of  his  favor. 
I  think  the  truth  was  this.  The  woman  had,  would  have, 
no  children.  She  had  often  assured  Mr.  Gladstone  that 
children  were  too  expensive  a  luxury  to  be  indulged  in  by 
people  in  their  circumstances.  Her  family  physician  had 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  53 

even  his  grave  suspicions  that  her  hands  were  not  guiltless 
of  innocent  blood;  for  be  it  known  to  you,  O  unenlight- 
ened reader,  that  thousands  of  delicate  American  females, 
who  would  shriek  if  a  fly  were  crushed  in  their  presence, 
have  no  such  compunctions  where  their  own  offspring  are 
concerned,  but,  if  they  can  do  it  without  publicity,  will 
unrelentingly  slay  them  in  cold  blood.  Of  these  women 
Mrs.  Gladstone  was  one;  a  quiet,  delicate,  saintly  mur- 
deress. 

And  yet,  so  tender  and  so  true  is  nature,  in  spite  of  all 
her  seeming  cruelties  and  contradictions,  that  this  woman, 
too  selfish  to  be  a  mother,  too  little  tender  toward  her 
own  flesh  to  shrink  from  its  destruction,  still  felt  maternal 
longings.  It  was  fitting  that  such  a  woman,  surely  not 
worthy  to  become  the  mother  of  an  immortal  being, 
should  take  to  her  unmaternal  bosom — a  dog. 

And  so  Echo  became  a  pet. 

Let  us  not  be  too  severe.  Mrs.  Gladstone's  heart  was 
full  of  kindness  toward  her  darling,  mistaken  kindness 
though  it  were.  Quite  unconsciously  to  herself,  she  bore 
many  of  the  anxieties,  and  something  of  the  labors  of  a 
real  mother.  She  washed  and  curled  her  Echo  every 
morning.  She  prepared  his  food  with  the  utmost  care. 
She  kept  continual  watch  over  him,  lest  he  should  be 
misused  by  other  dogs,  or  led  astray  by  malicious  village 
children.  If  the  night  were  cold,  she  arose  at  its  coldest 
hour  to  put  more  covering  on  his  bed.  If  he  were  ill, 
she  administered  medicine,  and  watched  over  him  with 
tender  solicitude.  In  so  far  as  she  shared  a  mother's 
sacred  labors,  let  us  hope  she  gained,  in  her  own  bosom 
at  least,  a  mother's  rewards;  since  it  is  surely  better  to 
be  tender  and  solicitous  for  a  dog,  than  never  to  be  tender 
and  solicitous  at  all.  But,  oh!  ye  loving,  happy  mothers, 
pity  even  while  you  condemn  a  love  so  low,  so  misdirected. 

Mrs.    Bowditch,   who    sympathized   in   her  daughter's 


,*>4  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

aversion  to  children,  sympathized,  also,  in  her  fondness 
for  Echo.  In  answer  to  her  inquiry,  he  was  duly  produced. 

"The  dear  little  creature,  how  sweet  he  looks,"  she 
exclaimed. 

In  answer  to  which  compliment,  accompanied  by  a  pat 
on  the  head,  Echo  snapped  and  snarled  most  viciously. 

"  Poor  Echo !  he  don't  know  who  it  is  he's  barking  at. 
He  thinks  it's  a  naughty  boy  going  to  take  him  away  from 
his  mistress,  don't  he?"  which  was  the  convenient  fiction 
by  which  his  caprices  were  excused.  But  his  continued 
ill  conduct  exhausted  even  Mrs.  Bowditch's  grandmoth- 
erly fondness  at  last,  and  she  gave  him  a  little  pat  on  the 
head,  which  was  not  intended  as  a  love  pat,  whereupon 
Echo  ran  yelping  to  his  mistress's  arms.  Mrs.  Gladstone 
was  austerely  silent,  but  the  cloud  upon  her  brow  darkened 
the  sunshine  in  that  room  during  all  the  remainder  of  her 
mother's  visit. 

Matters  having  thus  taken  an  inauspicious  turn,  Mrs. 
Bowditch  fell  back  from  the  pitch  of  momentary  enthu- 
siasm produced  by  the  lace  flounce  to  her  ordinary  tone 
of  complaining  and  fault-finding. 

An  old  woman!  What  more  desolate  phrase,  if  one 
has  the  picture  of  a  creature  like  Mrs.  Bowditch  before 
one's  eyes.  Wrinkled,  dried,  ugly,  the  bloom  and  fresh- 
ness of  youth  all  gone,  and  no  trace  of  rich  and  mellow 
maturity  left  behind;  the  eye  faded  and  sunken,  with  no 
inner  light  to  retrieve  its  lost  glory;  the  lip  pale  and 
dewless,  with  no  rare  smiling  curve  to  win,  at  last,  one's 
admiration  and  love.  The  wifely  tenderness  all  stilled 
from  those  aged  pulses,  and  the  sweet,  late  enthusiasm  of 
age  not  there  to  take  its  place;  the  maternal  fountains 
shrunk  and  perished,  and  no  universal  motherhood  aglow 
in  the  soul,  to  make  the  whole  form  and  countenance 
luminous  with  love.  An  old  man,  who  has  left  behind 
him  the  strength  and  passion  of  his  youth,  is  pitiable;  but 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  55 

to  him  has  never  come  the  unspeakable  tenderness  and 
beauty  of  a  woman's  life ;  to  him  could  never  come  the 
serene,  immortal  halo  which  should  be  hers  in  old  age 
Therefore,  of  all  death-in-life  is  none  so  ghastly,  so  deso 
late  as  a  loveless,  unlovely  old  woman. 

In  the  cool  damp  of  the  spring  twilight,  Abraham  Glad- 
stone walked  out  to  the  old  place.  It  had  been  a  hard 
day  with  him,  and  he  felt  a  longing  for  the  sweet,  though 
mournful  associations  of  the  spot.  The  necessity  of  over- 
looking some  repairs  going  on  at  the  time,  gave  him  a 
pretense,  and,  while  the  redness  of  day  still  lingered  in 
the  western  sky,  he  entered  the  familiar  gates. 

A  fine  avenue,  shaded  by  a  thick  growth  of  evergreens, 
led  up  to  the  house,  which  was  built  in  the  style  of  fifty 
yt-ars  ago;  a  broad,  square  structure,  with  carved  friezes 
and  pillared  portico.  Here  and  there  modern  devices  spoke 
of  renovation ;  a  bay  window  at  one  side,  a  balcony  over 
the  wing  door,  and,  at  the  opposite  side,  a  long  piazza,  with 
trellised  vines ;  but  the  general  effect  was  ancient,  and  not 
modern.  A  group  of  noble  elms  surrounding  it,  gave  it  an 
added  dignity;  and,  with  all  its  seams  and  scars,  and  marks 
of  age,  concealed  by  the  softly  luminous  dusk,  it  seemed  as 
fair  a  spot  as  the  fancy  could  wish  to  dwell  upon.  The 
grounds  about  it  had  been  arranged  with  evident  taste. 
There  was  a  well  kept  lawn,  of  wide  extent,  upon  which 
noble  trees  stood,  singly  or  in  groups.  Far  to  the  right  a 
dark  clump  of  evergreens  offered  seclusion  to  the  senti- 
mentally inclined,  while,  at  the  left,  ran  a  pretty  brook, 
spanned  by  a  rustic*  bridge,  overhung  by  willows,  and 
losing  itself  at  last  in  an  artificial  fish-pond,  upon  which, 
in  former  times,  a  tiny  boat  had  floated.  Beyond  stretched 
the  rolling  meadows,  and  softly  undulating  fields,  and 
heavy  woodlands,  which  made  up  the  estate. 

Every  rood  of  this  ground  was  dear  to  Abraham  Glad 
stone's  heart ;  with  each  some  reminiscence  of  his  youtb 


56  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

was  associated.  As  his  feet  pressed  the  familiar  sod,  his 
heart  was  thrilled  with  the  pride  of  ownership.  It  would 
be  the  work  of  many  a  year,  he  felt,  to  clear  off  the  heavy 
mortgage  which  encumbered  it;  and  which,  till  then,  must 
keep  its  unrelenting,  death-like  hold  upon  —  not  these 
acres,  but  his  very  life.  But  he  felt  a  man's  strength  and 
endurance  in  his  frame,  a  steady,  indomitable  will,  a  resist- 
less energy  in  his  brain,  to  do,  and  dare,  and  suffer  to  the 
utmost  for  the  thing  he  held  dearest  in  his  life  —  these 
paternal  acres,  this  home,  Avhich  had  once  been  his  mother's. 

Ah !  that  was  it.  The  struggle  of  man  with  man,  for 
bread,  wears  out  enthusiasm  and  inspiration  very  fast. 
Coming  out  of  his  office  that  night,  Abraham  had  felt 
very  poor,  very  purposeless,  very  worthless.  His  step 
had  halted,  his  head  had  drooped,  the  languor  of  weari- 
ness and  discouragement  had  pervaded  every  fiber.  There 
was  no  inspiration  in  his  home.  It  was  folly  to  think  of 
rest  and  recreation  there.  He  had  long  ago  ceased  to 
dream  of  finding  what  his  soul  needed  in  wedded  life ; 
long  ago  proved  that  men  cannot  gather  grapes  of  thorns, 
or  figs  of  thistles ;  but,  on  his  solitary  way,  that  evening, 
he  had  dreamed  of  a  baby  face  pressed  close  to  his,  of 
soft,  pink  fingers,  twined  in  his  hair,  of  a  breath  sweet  as 
June  roses  warming  his  face.  His  heart  had  ached,  as 
childless,  desolate  men's  hearts  often  do  ache,  for  the 
winsome  ways  and  innocent  cai'esses  of  infancy.  It  was 
a  dream,  sacred,  because  so  far  from  being  realized ; 
he  would  have  owned  it  to  no  man.  -  The  tears  which 
sprang  unbidden  to  his  eyes,  he  brushed  hastily  away,  as 
if  he  were  ashamed  of  them ;  but  none  the  less  his  heart 
was  weighed  down  with  unutterable  sadness  and  desola- 
tion. 

But  here,  on  this  familiar  lawn,  an  angel  met  him  — 
breathed  inspiration,  courage,  love,  which  is  life,  into  his 
veins.  No  angel  was  it  of  the  upper  heavens,  the  incon- 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  57 

ceivable,  unapproachable  depths  of  Being;  but  the  spirit 
of  a  woman,  earth-born,  the  dear,  touching,  trembling 
memory  of  his  mother;  she  who  had  been  his  refuge  in 
every  childish  trouble,  his  strength  in  every  youthful  dis- 
couragement, the  inspirer  of  all  noble  ambition,  the  pride 
of  his  eyes,  the  delight  of  his  heart;  so  tender,  so  patient, 
so  forgiving,  so  never-failing  in  love  and  faith.  The  stars 
looked  down  upon  him  with  her  soft  eyes ;  the  dusk  was 
brightened  by  her  beaming  smile  ;  the  night  breeze  whis- 
pered with  her  tender  tones.  His  eye  grew  brighter  as 
he  went  about  his  work,  his  step  more  elastic ;  he  had 
kept  a  tryst  with  love.  His  spirit  was  gladdened,  the 
cares  of  the  day  were  exorcised,  and  he  went  home 
another  man  from  him  who  had  walked  that  way  an  hour 
before,  silent  and  sorrowing. 

"I'm  glad  Abraham  feels  so  cheerful  to-night,"  said 
Mrs.  Gladstone  to  her  mother,  as  the  latter  was  getting 
ready  to  go  home.  "  It  isn't  pleasant  to  have  a  man  so 
glum  about  the  house,  as  he  often  is.  Nobody  knows 
what  I  endure  with  him,  at  times.  I  thought,  perhaps" — 

"Was  it  about  the  money?  Oh!  men  always  do  make 
a  fuss  about  money;  but,  then,  they  get  over  it.  Your 
father  always  did.  I  can  tell  you,  I  had  my  troubles  in 
my  time,  as  well  as  others.  But  you,  with  your  tact  for 
management,  ought  never  to  complain.  I  really  think 
you've  got  Abraham  into  excellent  subjection ;  and,  depend 
upon  it,  my  daughter,  it's  all  they're  fit  for — men." 


f>8  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


VI. 


BUSINESS    VS.    LOVE    MAKING. 

1  suppose  there  was  not,  in  all  Wyndham,  a  woman 
more  envied  than  Mrs.  Ralph  Darrell.  She  had  the  finest 
house  in  town,  built  since  her  marriage,  to  meet  exactly  her 
tastes  and  her  desires.  It  was  surrounded  by  fine  grounds ; 
it  was  elegantly  furnished.  She  kept  her  carriage,  and  her 
wardrobe,  if  she  chose,  might  fairly  outrival  that  of  the 
wife  of  the  member  of  Congress,  which  was  glory  enough, 
in  that  line.  Her  children  were  fine  looking,  healthy, 
promising;  her  husband  handsome,  agreeable,  indulgent. 
He  was  proud  of  her;  he  would  even  have  loved  her,  if 
he  had  time.  As  it  was,  he  was  putting  off  that  luxury 
till  he  should  have  amassed  a  fortune  ;  not  that  he  would 
have  admitted,  now,  that  he  did  not  love  her.  Quite  the 
contrary;  it  was  only  that  during  his  courtship  he  had 
found  the  constant  studying,  and  remembering,  and  cater- 
ing to  a  woman's  tastes,  however  delightful  in  itself,  a 
heavy  draft  upon  the  time  and  energies  of  a  businessman. 
Of  course  it  must  be  done  then ;  but  now,  with  his  wife 
secured,  and  all  done  for  her  that  money  could  do,  he 
could  no  longer  afford  himself  or  her  that  luxury.  He 
cherished  a  dream — without  ever  mentioning  it,  for  Amer- 
ican business  men  are  not  given  to  talking  sentiment  —  of 
a  time  when  he  should  have  fully  gratified  his  ambition, 
and  should  have  leisure  to  enjoy  the  society  of  his  wife. 
I  even  think  that  this  dream  was  at  times  the  secret  spring 
and  inspiration  of  his  best  efforts  in  that  direction.  His 
mistake  lay  in  that  he  forgot  that  opportunities  come  but 
once;  that  life  never  stands  still,  and  that,  while  lie  was 
neglecting  to  keep  at  one  with  his  wife,  heart-beat  for 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  59 

heart-beat,  life-stroke  for  life-stroke,  waiting  for  that  more 
convenient  season,  they  were  walking  apart,  and  growing 
apart.  He  lived  alone  in  his  business,  and  she  lived  alone 
in  her  home.  And  that  was  Mrs.  Ralph  Dan-ell's  skeleton. 

But,  apart  from  this,  a  cloud  was  settling  over  the  house. 
She  came  downi  from  her  nursery  to  the  breakfast  table 
with  a  troubled  brow. 

•'  Ralph,"  she  said,  "  I  think  you  had  better  stop  at  the 
doctor's  on  your  way  down  town,  and  tell  him  to  come  up. 
Baby  seems  quite  sick,  and  Mabel  complains  of  a  sore 
throat.  I  am  afraid  they  are  going  to  have  scarlet  fever." 

"I  guess  you  are  a  little  nervous,"  he  said,  abstractedly. 
"They  seemed  well  enough  last  night;  however,  I'll  notify 
the  doctor  if  you  wish,  and  I  don't  forget  it.  The  safe 
way  is  to  tell  John,  and  let  him  stop  as  he  comes  back 
from  driving  me  down  town.  I'm  in  a  great  hurry." 

Mrs.  Dan-ell  was  not  nervous  in  the  sense  in  which  her 
husband  used  the  word;  but  she  was  deeply  troubled. 
The  scarlet  fever  was  rife  in  the  neighborhood,  and  with 
the  experienced  eye  of  a  mother  who  had  carried  two 
children  safely  through  it,  she  felt  certain  that  her  babes 
were  already  attacked  with  the  dreadful  disease,  and  one 
at  least  severely.  She  was  a  woman  of  strong  mind  and 
good  courage;  but  when  her  children  were  threatened  she 
had  a  woman's  trembling,  apprehensive  heart,  and  longed 
for,  needed  a  word  of  steady,  masculine  encouragement 
and  sympathy.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  she  had  spoken 
to  her  husband,  instead  of  sending  a  servant  at  once  for 
the  doctor.  She  had  asked  for  bread  and  received  a 
stone,  and  she  was  not  the  woman  to  ask  twice. 

So  John  went  for  the  doctor;  and  he,  when  he  came, 
confirmed  her  worst  apprehensions.  At  dinner,  therefore, 
she  said  again: 

"  The  children  have  the  scarlet  fever,  Ralph.  Will  you 
come  up  and  see  them?" 


60  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Mr.  Darrell  looked  at  his  watch.  I've  hardly  time  now, 
Laura;  to-night  will  do  as  well.  Don't  be  nervous,  dear; 
the  other  children  got  through  safely,  and  with  your  good 
nursing  and  the  doctor's  excellent  care,  I've  no  fears;  and 
you  must  not  have.  I'm  rather  unusually  busy  just  now, 
and  if  it  promises  to  be  a  long  siege  you  must  hunt  up 
somebody  to  help  you.  I  don't  believe  Annie  is  very 
capable,  and  I'd  just  discharge  her  and  get  somebody  else. 
Do  anything  you  like,  only  don't  bother  me." 

So  the  burden  that  was  already  heavy  enough,  was 
doubled  when  he  threw  his  own  share  upon  her  also. 
Laura  turned  away  with  dry  eyes,  but  a  sinking  heart. 

But  the  doctor  knew  a  woman's  wants  better.  "Laura," 
lie  said,  "how  are  you  going  to  get  along?  Annie  isn't 
much  to  depend  upon,  and  you  will  need  good  help  before 
you  get  through." 

"I  do  not  know,"  she  said,  absently.  "Girls  are  very 
scarce  now;  they  all  go  into  the  mills.  I  don't  know 
where  I  could  find  one  that  would  do  better  than  Annie. 
If  I  knew  of  any  experienced  nurse  I  should  be  glad  to 
hire  her,  but  there  does  not  seem  to  he  anybody." 

"  H'm !  h'm ! "  said  the  doctor,  whistling  and  meditating. 

"I  know  of  a  woman  I  think  I  could  get  for  you.  She's 
a  good  nurse,  and  I'm  inclined  to  think  not  a  bad  woman. 
That's  about  all  I  do  know  about  her;  but  if  I  were  in 
your  place  I  should  rather  risk  her  than  Annie.  Can't — 
tell — what — she — may — turn — out — to  be,  but  you  might 
try  her." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Darrell,  "  if  you  think  I  had  bet- 
ter send  for  her,  I  will  do  so." 

"Perhaps  I'd  better  see  her  myself  first,"  said  the 
doctor,  cautiously.  "If  I  can  get  her,  I'll  send  her  up  to 
you  before  night." 

The  success  of  his  mission  the  reader  already  knows. 

The  room   into  which  Rebecca  was   shown  when  she 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  61 

arrived  at  Mrs.  Darrell's  was  the  library.  It  was  a  small, 
cosey  apartment,  furnished  in  green,  the  walls  fitted  with 
book  shelves,  with  fine  busts  over  the  doors  and  windows. 
The  only  picture  in  the  room  was  a  life-size  portrait  of 
Mrs.  Darrell,  hanging  over  the  mantel. 

It  was  several  minutes  before  that  lady  made  her 
appearance,  and  Rebecca  spent  the  time  in  studying  the 
noble  and  beautiful  face,  which  she  instantly  divined  was 
that  of  the  mistress  of  the  mansion.  The  brow  was 
broad  and  smooth,  not  too  prominent  in  either  the  upper 
or  lower  portion ;  the  softly  waving  hair,  dark  and  glossy, 
was  coiled  in  heavy  masses  at  the  back  of  the  head,  while 
a  single  curl  fell  on  either  shoulder;  the  features  were 
regular,  and  the  whole  organization  of  a  breadth  and 
fullness  which  indicated  that  rare  union, — a  cool,  wise 
head,  a  strong,  true  heart.  But  it  was  upon  the  eyes  that 
Rebecca  lingered  longest;  a  soft,  clear  gray  in  color,  there 
Avas  still  a  light  in  them  which  seemed  to  shine  out  from 
deep,  interior  worlds,  where  lay  resolved  the  elements  of 
infinite  things.  They  were  eyes  that  saw  nothing  in  a 
frivolous  or  superficial  way;  but  which  looked  easily  and 
naturally  to  the  heart  and  core  of  mysteries.  Eyes  of 
untold  knowledge,  of  untold  power,  yet  shining  with  a 
ray  so  softly  human,  so  tenderly  winning,  that  they  com- 
pelled less  your  reverence  and  admiration  than  your 
sympathy  and  love.  The  accessories  were,  as  they  should 
be,  very  simple ;  a  plain,  white  dress,  fastened  at  the 
throat  with  a  garnet  pin;  nothing  to  detract  from  the 
simple  power  and  purity  of  the  lovely  face,  which  was, 
among  common  faces,  as  the  queen  of  roses  among  way- 
side weeds. 

Rebecca  had  scarcely  finished  her  analysis  of  it,  had 
not  at  all  ceased  wondering  if  it  were  possible  for  a  living 
woman  to  be  the  peer  of  it  in  beauty  and  strength,  when 
the  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Darrell  entered;  the  exact 


62  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

counterpart  of  her  portrait,  except  that  for  the  white 
dress  was  substituted  a  printed  cashmere  wrapper,  of 
which  the  ground  tone  was  a  soft  shade  of  green. 

Mrs.  Darrell  had  expected  to  meet  an  ordinary  servant 
girl ;  if  foreign,  possibly  neat  and  womanly  in  her  appear- 
ance ;  but,  if  American,  most  certainly  coarse  and  rude; 
for  none  but  the  lower  classes  of  American  women  are 
now  to  be  found  in  the  ranks  of  domestic  servants.  In- 
stead of  this  she  saw  before  her  a  slight,  but  well  formed 
young  woman,  of  medium  height,  with  possibly  an  added 
inch.  Her  features  were  delicate;  her  hair  and  eyes, 
exactly  matched  in  color,  were  of  a  rich,  reddish  brown, 
as  rare  as  it  is  lovely,  and  which  is  never  found  except 
with  a  skin  of  that  peculiar  softness  and  transparency 
which  can  only  be  likened  to  a  rose-tinted  pearl  shell. 
Her  dress  was  plain,  but  perfectly  neat  and  lady -like ;  and, 
but  for  a  strange,  indescribable  expression  of  countenance, 
which  dimly  reminded  one  of  delicate  vines  with  dewy 
blossoms  and  clinging  tendrils,  torn,  and  drenched,  and 
shattered  in  a  thunder  gust;  of  bright-winged,  song-loving 
birds  of  the  tropics,  afloat  on  stormy  seas,  drowned  in  the 
acrid  saltness  of  the  spray,  and  tossed  from  wave  to  wave, 
the  picture  of  cruel  desolation  and  hopeless,  helpless  ruin; 
but  for  this  sad,  unfathomable  look,  she  might  have  been 
the  most  refined  and  lovable  of  Mrs.  Darrell's  elegant 
neighbors,  dropped  in  to  pay  a  morning  call. 

A  little  of  the  surprise  which  that  lady  felt  was  visible 
upon  her  countenance. 

"Is  this  Rebecca  March?"  she  said,  as  if  fearing  a 
mistake. 

"Yes,  madam." 

"  You  are,  then,  I  understand,  seeking  employment  as  a 
nurse  girl  ?  " 

"Doctor  Gaines  informed  me  that  you  needed  the 
.services  of  such  a  person,"  was  the  somewhat  evasive 


A  WOMAN  S    SECRET.  63 

reply,  "  and  was  kind  enough  to  give  me  the  prefer- 
ence." 

"Are  you  accustomed  to  going  out  to  service?" 

Rebecca  meant  to  be  very  calm,  very  stoical;  the  flush 
which  mounted  to  her  face  was  quite  involuntary,  but  it 
made  Mrs.  Darrell  regret  her  question,  and  resolve  to  be 
more  careful  in  the  future. 

"  I  have  not  always  been  a  servant,"  she  said,  "  but 
circumstances  have  thrown  me  upon  my  own  resources, 
and  I  am  quite  willing  to  accept  any  employment  which 
will  give  me  a  home  and  the  necessaries  of  life.  I  hope 
to  be  able  to  please  you." 

"Are  you  accustomed  to  the  care  of  children  —  sick 
children  ?  " 

"  Xot  very  much,"  was  the  reply;  "but that  is  something 
which  a  woman  ought  to  learn  easily.  I  am  fond  of  chil- 
dren, madam." 

"  That  is  certainly  a  great  deal  in  your  favor.  You  can 
wash  and  dress  them,  I  suppose ;  and  exercise  a  gentle, 
and  at  the  same  time  firm,  restraint  over  them." 

"  I  hope  to  give  you  satisfaction  in  these  respects." 

"  My  brother  has  perhaps  told  you  that  I  have  two 
children  sick  with  scarlet  fever.  The  youngest,  my  little 
Ralph,  has  always  been  a  delicate  child.  All  through  the 
winter  he  has  been  a  constant  care,  and  the  disease  is 
already  developing  itself  in  so  violent  a  form  that  I  have 
very  grave  apprehensions.  Mabel  is  less  severely  attacked, 
and  I  hope,  with  sufficient  care  and  good  nursing,  may  get 
through  safely ;  but  for  this,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  trust  in 
a  great  measure  to  you,  for  Ralph  occupies  almost  every 
minute  of  my  time.  It  is  a  serious  responsibility  for  any 
one  to  undertake ;  but  if  I  find  in  you  all  that  your  appear- 
ance leads  me  to  hope,  there  need  be  no  present  mention 
of  wages  between  us.  Whatever  you  ask  will  be  cheer- 
fully paid  " 


64  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  I  shall  do  my  best  to  serve  you,"  said  Rebecca,  quietly, 
but  with  a  manner  that  signified  more  than  her  words. 
"  As  for  wages,  whatever  you  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
paying  will  be  quite  satisfactory  to  me." 

"  Mrs.  Darrell  then  led  the  way  to  the  nursery,  where 
Rebecca,  having  divested  herself  of  her  outer  garments, 
commenced  the  task  of  becoming  acquainted  with  her 
work. 

In  a  large,  neatly  furnished,  and  ordinarily  well  lighted, 
but  now  darkened  room,  the  little  sufferers  lay;  Mabel  on 
the  low  bed,  Ralph  in  his  little  crib.  There  were  bottles, 
and  spoons,  and  cups  about,  and  the  necessary  appliances 
for  bathing ;  but,  with  all,  there  was  no  untidiness  or  dis- 
order. A  door,  opening  into  an  adjoining  room,  furnished 
a  sure  supply  of  fresh  air,  and  the  stillness  was  only  broken 
by  the  low  moans  of  the  restless,  suffering  babes.  The 
other  two  children,  Rebecca  learned,  were  Maude,  a  girl 
of  twelve,  and  Evelyn,  six  years  old.  These,  for  the 
present,  would  be  very  little  in  the  nursery,  and  Rebecca's 
principal  charge  would  be  to  sit  by  Mabel,  attend  to  her 
wants,  administer  medicine,  and  be  in  readiness,  always, 
to  assist  Mrs.  Darrell  in  the  care  of  Ralph.  Mrs.  Darrell 
had  a  horror  of  strangers  in  ber  nursery,  besides  being 
scrupulous  about  scattering  the  infection,  and  proposed 
that,  as  long  as  they  could  endure  it,  they  should  sleep  on 
alternate  nights.  It  proved,  indeed,  that  she  was  too 
true  a  mother  to  leave  her  suffering  child  at  all,  so  long 
as  nature  could  hold  out;  but  caught,  now  and  then,  a 
snatch  of  sleep,  to  make  further  endurance  just  possible. 

"  I  am  quite  alone,"  she  said,  "  and  shall  be  obliged  to 
depend  altogether  upon  you ;  for  my  sister  Joanna,  always 
an  invalid,  and  most  unfit,  by  want  of  experience,  for  the 
care  of  sick  children,  has  now  a  little  pet  of  her  own,  by 
adoption,  and  the  doctor  is  fearful  of  infection.  Mother 
would  otherwise  come  in  occasionally,  though  she  is  too 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  65 

old  for  the  active  labors  of  the  sick-room.  As  it  is,  I 
shall  not  send  for  them,  except  in  case  of  emergency. 
The  neighbors  are  all  kind,  but  we  will  do  by  ourselves  as 
long  as  we  can." 

Rebecca  had  a  loyal  heart,  and  she  was  by  this  time  so 
charmed  with  this  nature  before  her,  at  once  so  tender 
and  so  strong,  that  she  hailed  the  compact  with  joy.  It 
seemed  to  her,  lacking  naturally  in  courage  and  daring,  so 
brave  and  noble  a  thing  to  do,  to  meet  and  engage,  single 
handed,  the  grim  destroyer.  She  accepted  her  part  of  the 
labor  with  such  quiet  zeal  and  fidelity,  that  Mrs.  Darrell 
was  at  once  inspired  with  confidence  and  trust,  and  before 
the  day  closed  was  thanking  heaven  for  sending  this 
unlooked  for  bounty,  this  woman,  who  was  at  once  a  trusty 
assistant  and  a  sympathizing  friend. 

The  doctor  came  in  frequently,  and,  in  a  quiet  way,  made 
many  observations.  If  he  had  been  foiled  in  finding  out 
what  this  woman  had  been,  he  was  in  a  fair  way  to  deter- 
mine what  she  was.  But  things  worked  very  smoothly, 
and  the  doctor  found  himself  imperceptibly  losing  interest 
in  his  self-imposed  espionage,  as  the  character  of  Rebecca 
developed,  day  by  day  before  his  eyes,  into  a  quiet,  unob- 
trusive symmetry  and  beauty. 


C2 


66  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


VII. 

"THEY  TWAIN  SHALL  BE  ONE  FLESH." 

Mr.  Darrell  visited  the  nursery  regularly  three  times  a 
day,  speaking  gently  to  the  little  sufferers,  making  sugges- 
tions for  their  comfort,  awarding  a  woi'd  or  two  of  sym- 
pathy and  encouragement  to  his  wife,  and  then  he  was  off 
to  his  business  again.  In  the  evening  he  had  the  papers 
to  read,  and  when  night  came  he  was  fatigued  and  in 
want  of  rest. 

"Get  all  the  help  you  need,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "but 
don't  ask  me  to  sit  up.  I  am  not  fitted  for  it;  it  isn't  my 
business." 

At  noon  of  the  third  day  he  came  to  her  with  rather 
more  than  his  usual  anxiety. 

"How  are  the  children  to-day?"  he  asked. 

Mabel  seemed  no  worse;  her  case  was  hopeful,  and  she 
told  him  so. 

"  But  the  baby,  oh !  Ralph,"  she  said,  "  the  baby  is  very 
sick." 

"That  child  has  always  been  so  much  more  care  than 
the  others,"  he  said,  "  that  I  think  you  worry  about  him 
unnecessarily.  He  doesn't  seem  to  me  so  much  worse 
than  Mabel.  He  even  seems  quieter,  not  in  so  much 
distress." 

She  was  silent;  his  eye  and  hand  were  so  untrained  to 
sickness,  how  could  she  make  him  understand  that  what 
he  saw  was  the  feebleness  of  nature,  which  could  make 
no  moan 

"I  wanted  to  go  to  New  York  to-night,"  he  said.  "It 
is  very  necessaiy  to  my  business.  Indeed,  not  to  go 
would  derange  my  plans  for  the  whole  season.  I  shall  go 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  67 

down  to-night  and  back  to-morrow  night,  so  that  I  should 
be  gone  barely  thirty-six  hours.  Of  course,  if  you  insist 
on  my  staying,  I  shall  do  so ;  but  it  will  be  a  serious 
disadvantage  to  me." 

Laura's  eyes — those  eyes  with  infinite  meanings  in  them 
— were  looking  into  vacancy. 

"  Oh,  Ralph  ! "  she  said,  "  can  I  go  through  with  this 
alone?" 

"It  is  only  a  day,  love,  and  the  fever  has  not  yet  reached 
its  crisis." 

A  weaker  woman,  a  woman  less  unselfish,  would  have 
clung*  to  him,  and  with  tears  and  entreaties,  would  have 
made  his  going  impossible.  I  do  not  say  that  she  would 
have  been  wrong ;  but  this  I  know,  it  was  out  of  grander 
deeps  than  such  women  can  conceive,  or  than  most  men 
can  appreciate  truly,  that  Laura's  reply  came. 

"  Go,  if  you  must,  my  husband.  Whatever  come«,  with 
God's  help  I  can  bear  it." 

He  left  her,  and  Laura  went  back  to  the  cradle  of  her 
sick  babe.  The  fevered  flesh,  the  glassy  eye,  the  painful 
breathing,  all  appealed  to  her  as  they  had  never  done 
before.  The  doctor  came  in  a  few  minutes  later. 

"  Milton,"  she  said,  after  she  had  told  him  of  her 
husband's  intention,  "Milton,  can't  you  persuade  him  not 
to  go." 

"Laura,"  said  the  doctor,  "if  he  can  look  in  your  face 
and  go,  it  isn't  likely  that  anything  I  could  say  would 
stop  him." 

Stirring  business  men  like  Mr.  Darrell  sometimes  failed 
of  respect  for  the  doctor,  and  he  felt  it.  Let  them  but  have 
a  cramp,  or  a  twinge  of  rheumatism,  and  he  straightway 
had  his  revenge.  But  in  this  case,  all  the  more  because 
he  was  Laura  Darrell' s  brother,  he  was  slow  to  interfere. 

So  Mr.  Darrell  went  to  New  York. 

When  he  had  kissed  her  good  bye,  and  bidden  her  be 


68  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

of  good  courage,  for  he  would  be  back  again  very  soon, 
Mrs.  Darrell  went  to  her  nursery.  The  babe  stirred  from 
his  heavy  lethargy  and  put  up  his  little  hands  from  the 
crib  imploringly.  Tears,  bitter  and  blinding,  started 
from  Laura's  eyes,  as  she  held  her  darling  to  her  breast 
and  felt  the  fever  in  his  veins,  the  agonized  throbbing  in 
his  brain,  and  the  restless  working  of  his  limbs  in  mute 
distress. 

Outside,  the  night  was  gathering  dark  and  rainy. 
It  seemed  to  Laura  as  if  the  clouds  that  shut  out  the 
stars,  shut  out  heaven  beside;  as  if  that  still,  dark  room, 
with  its  suffering  occupants,  had  somehow  drifted  out  of 
its  rightful  place  in  the  universe  of  God,  and  was  no 
longer  cared  for  by  Him.  Part  of  this  feeling  of  desola- 
tion and  neglect  was  no  doubt  owing  to  the  undue  tension 
of  her  nervous  system.  The  physical  organization  of 
woman  is  the  most  finely  wrought  and  delicately  adjusted 
instrument  that  ever  came  from  the  hands  of  its  Maker. 
In  its  sensitiveness  to  pain  or  pleasure,  its  susceptibility, 
its  infinite  range  of  pure,  delicate  and  spiritual  uses,  it  is 
something  so  far  removed  from  the  coarser  adaptations  of 
masculine  beings,  that  no  man  living  can  fully  comprehend 
or  sympathize  with  it.  From  the  moment  the  girl  becomes 
a  woman,  and  still  more,  when  the  woman  becomes  a 
mother,  she  enters  upon  a  range  of  experiences  which  are 
her  sole  and  indefeasible  possession.  In  every  other 
experience,  but  those  which  belong  solely  to  her  womanly 
nature,  her  lover  may  follow  her  step  by  step,  and  their 
intercourse  may  be  that  of  equals  and  co-workers;  but 
here  such  equality  and  fellowship  cease.  Henceforth 
the  male  takes  the  secondary  position. 

He  lays  at  her  feet  a  few  material  elements ;  to  these 
she  adds  the  spiritualizing  force,  and  creates  out  of  billets 
of  timber  and  blocks  of  stone  that  higher  and  vastly 
different  thing — a  home.  With  the  product  of  a  single 


A  WOMAN  S    SECRET.  69 

heart-throb,  she  peoples  that  home  with  immortal  beings. 
Even  then  her  work  is  but  commenced.  Through  all  the 
weary  weeks  and  months  of  infancy,  with  their  days  of 
labor  and  corroding  anxiety,  their  nights  of  ceaseless 
vigil  and  prayer,  it  is  still  she  who  must  suffer,  endure, 
and  out  of  her  own  life  nourish  that  new  life  on  which, 
not  to  her  only,  but  to  the  universe  at  large,  all  things 
depend.  She  is  gifted  thus  with  a  creative  faculty  almost 
divine,  and  she  has  a  self-sustaining  power,  too,  almost 
divine.  Almost,  not  quite.  The  rude  physical  strength 
which  must  go  to  her  support,  or  else  she  fail,  is  stored  in 
the  larger  frame  and  stronger  muscles  of  man.  It  is  his 
duty  to  transmute  them,  by  smiles  and  caresses,  and  a 
constant,  tender,  endearing  encouragement,  into  fiber  of 
her  fiber,  life  of  her  life.  So  only  can  she  truly  succeed 
in  her  great  mission;  so  only  people  the  world  with  new 
and  ever  finer  races,  and  at  the  same  time  retain  for  her- 
self and  for  man  the  graces  and  harmonies  of  her  being. 

This  material  succor  was  the  food  for  which  Laura 
Darrell  was  famishing.  Refused  those  necessary  supplies, 
she  had  no  recourse  but  that  of  the  pelican ;  she  must 
tear  the  flesh  from  her  own  breast,  rob  her  own  life  of  its 
light,  its  warmth,  its  spiritual  uplifting,  to  succor  the 
failing  life  of  her  child. 

So  it  was,  that  her  own  heavens  grew  dark,  while  she 
made  a  heaven  of  warmth1,  and  tenderness,  and  love 
about  her  babe.  Alas !  alas !  to  how  little  purpose  it 
seemed  to  her. 

All  night  she  held  him  in  her  arms,  while  the  faithful 
Rebecca  knelt  at  her  feet  and  handed  her  in  their  turn 
the  various  appliances.  Not  for  an  instant  did  either  of 
them  relax  their  efforts,  or  when  efforts  ceased  to  avail, 
their  watching;  but  steadily  through  the  seemingly  inter- 
minable watches  of  the  night  the  little  flame  burned  lower 
and  lower  in  its  socket. 


70  A  WOMAN'S  SECKET. 

The  morning  came,  and  with  it  the  anxious  doctor. 

"Can  he  live?"  murmured  the  stricken  mother,  the 
agony  of  renunciation  quivering  in  her  voice. 

"Laura,"  said  the  doctor,  looking  away  from  her  face 
lest  he  should  see  her  pain,  "  it  isn't  best  to  look  for  life 
when  death  is  the  only  thing  to  pray  for.  The  child's 
brain  is  spoilt." 

Did  no  echo  of  this  doom  break  upon  the  father's  ear 
as  he  trod  the  pavements  of  Wall  street?  Or  was  his 
spiritual  sense  so  dull  that  the  voiceless  intimations  of 
the  air  could  not  reach  it  ?  He  achieved  a  skillful  opera- 
tion that  day,  by  which,  as  he  reckoned,  he  gained  a 
decided  advantage  over  his  rivals  in  trade.  Let  us  con- 
gratulate him  upon  it. 

All  through  that  long  sunny  day,  the  two  faithful 
watchers  strove,  not  to  save  now,  only  to  comfort  and 
shield  from  unnecessary  pain  the  beloved  sufferer.  As 
the  evening  drew  near,  it  was  plain  that  the  crisis 
approached.  The  heavens  still  shut  down  dark  and 
appalling  over  Laura's  heart,  but  into  their  gloomy 
obscurity  she  launched  that  constant  prayer : 

"If  he  only  can  live  till  his  father  comes.  Oh!  God, 
how  can  I  bear  this  stroke  alone ! " 

The  night  closed  down,  the  world  grew  still,  the  infinite 
depths  of  heaven  revealed  the  stars.  Still  the  mother  sat 
in  the  low  nursery  chair,  whioh  she  had  not  left  since  her 
husband's  step  died  out  of  the  hall  below. 

"  Rebecca,"  she  said,  "  I  cannot  bear  this  any  longer, 
my  heart  will  break.  Let  me  lay  him  in  your  lap.  Oh  ! 
God  of  heaven,  must  my  strength  fail  me  at  the  last !  " 

There  were  no  tears  in  her  eyes ;  only  a  heavy,  hopeless 
sorrow,  too  deep  for  tears.  At  that  moment  her  mother 
entered  the  room;  a  calm,  majestic  woman,  of  a  rarer 
beauty  than  any  youth  bestows. 

"  My  daughter,"  she  said,  "  a  woman's   strength   can 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  71 

never  fail,  because  it  is  of  the  Highest.     No  other  crea 
ture  has  the  hold  on  heaven  that  a  mother  has. 

"But  He  has  forsaken  me,"  moaned  the  anguish-stricken 
wife. 

"  Never,  my  child.  If  He  has  taken  away  every  other 
support,  it  is  that  you  may  draw  the  more  deeply  from 
Him.  '  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  Him.'" 

The  house  was  still ;  the  last  inmate  had  retired  to  rest, 
but  scarcely  yet  to  sleep,  when  the  heavenly  gate  opened. 
A  light  that  was  not  of  earth  streamed  across  the  baby 
face,  the  blue  eyes  opened  in  a  maze  of  unearthly  wonder 
and  joy,  and  then  closed  again  forever. 

The  world  that  hitherto  had  seemed  reeling  about  her, 
steadied  itself  underneath  the  poor  mother's  feet.  She 
could  not  yet  see  her  Father's  face,  she  could  not  hear  his 
voice,  but  through  the  chaotic  darkness  she  felt  his  arm. 

Herself,  she  brought  the  baby  robes  and  helped  to  put 
them  on.  Herself  smoothed  the  sunny  hair,  each  thread 
of  it  more  dear  to  her  than  gold  of  Ophir.  Herself 
straightened  the  rounded,  dimpled  limbs.  When  all  was 
done,  and  the  room  put  into  that  order  which  women  love 
so  well,  the  elder  mother  took  the  Bible,  and  read  in  a 
calm  though  tremulous  tone,  first  the  touching  story  of 
David's  bereavement,  and  then  the  tender,  trustful  strains 
of  the  twenty-third  psalm  :  "  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd, 
I  shall  not  want ;  *  *  *  yea,  though  I  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ; 
for  thou  art  with  me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort 
me." 

The  moment  Laura  had  dreaded  came  at  last.  There 
was  no  evading  it,  no  putting  it  off  for  any  other  duty. 
The  day  was  done,  the  night  had  come.  Her  bed  awaited 
her. 

Oh  !  lonely  bed ;  oh  !  couch  of  bitter  desolation  and 
reproach.  No  babe,  no  husband.  Where  should  her 


72  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

head  repose,  where  should  she  lay  her  empty,  yearning 
arms.  Her  frame  was  weary  to  exhaustion,  but  here  was 
no  rest.  Her  spirit  fainted  for  succor,  but  here  was  no 
wine  of  consolation.  In  her  agony,  she  threw  her  arms 
about  her  faithful  friend,  and  begged  her  not  to  leave  her. 
Sleep  there  was  none  for  her,  but  the  comfort  of  speech 
she  might  have  if  Rebecca  would  sit  by  her  bedside. 

They  watched  the  long  night  through,  the  lonely  mother 
going  by  herself  again  and  again  to  visit  the  little  casket, 
to  see,  as  she  said,  in  her  wandering,  half-demented 
speech,  that  the  dear  child  wanted  nothing — oh!  mad- 
ness known  only  to  mothers,  the  madness  of  care,  ~and 
tenderness  and  solicitude  that  will  not  be  appeased,  when 
the  tenderness  of  heaven  has  replaced  its  own  —  and 
coming  back  again  to  recount  to  her  patient  listener  all 
the  bitter-sweet  reminiscences  of  the  beloved  babyhood, 
which  crowded  her  brain  with  such  yearning  and  regret. 

After  the  daylight  broke,  a  drowsiness  seized  her  brain, 
and  for  a  few  moments  she  slumbered.  Then  she  arose, 
dressed  herself  carefully,  and  prepared  to  meet  her  hus- 
band. 

Of  his  dismay  and  heartfelt  agony  it  boots  not  now  to 
tell.  The  after  story  will  test  the  quality  of  his  grief.  He 
lavished  money  upon  the  funeral  rites.  There  was  a 
little  white  coffin  with  silver  nails  and  plate  of  buraished 
brightness ;  there  were  flowers  in  profusion,  and  a  robe  of 
daintiest  texture  and  device.  He  consoled  himself  also 
with  saying  that  his  presence  after  all  could  have  made 
no  difference  with  the  result ;  the  sorrow  must  have 
come  just  as  certainly  and  surely.  He  dwelt  upon  his 
grief  in  not  seeing  that  dear  face  once  again  in  life,  and 
thought  his  penalty  was  greater  than  he  could  bear.  But 
the  loss  he  could  least  afford  to  suffer  was  one  which  he 
scarcely  measured  at  all — the  loss  of  an  opportunity  to 
bind  his  wife's  heart  to  him,  by  what  would  have  been  a 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  73 

dearer  tie  than  even  the  birth  of  that  only  boy.  And  the 
loss  was  irretrievable.  She  had  felt  a  want  which  it  was 
his  place  to  fill,  and  he  had  not  been  there  to  fill  it.  She 
had  gone  through  an  experience  which,  if  he  had  shared 
it,  would  have  linked  their  souls  together  by  a  bond  which 
should  have  been  indissoluble  through  all  eternity;  but  in 
those  deep  throes  of  expectation  and  despair  he  had  had 
no  portion. 

In  God's  great  universe  of  love  there  is  no  loss.  One 
of  His  houseless,  homeless  ones  gathered  up  the  spilled 
contents  of  this  most  precious  alabaster  box,  and  not  a 
drop  was  wasted.  The  woman  who  had  wrestled  through 
the  watches  of  that  awful  night  with  Laura  Darrell,  was 
thereafter  no  stranger,  no  servant  in  any  ignoble  sense, 
but  an  equal,  a  friend,  a  never-to-be-forgotten  benefactor. 


74  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


VIII. 

SOME    IDEAS   CONCERNING    "A   WOMAN'S   SPHERE." 

It  was  in  this  spirit  that  Mrs.  Darrell  approached  Re 
becca,  in  regard  to  her  future  course.  The  latter  wae 
Bitting  in  the  nursery,  sewing,  and  at  the  same  time 
endeavoring  to  cheer,  with  an  original  fairy  story,  the  lone- 
liness of  little  Mabel,  who  was  still  confined  to  the  house. 
If  Rebecca  had  a  talent  at  all,  it  was  this  one  of  amusing 
children.  Her  store  of  stories  never  failed ;  and  whether 
they  were  inventions  of  her  own,  or  retailed  at  second- 
hand, the  manner  was  always  original,  and  so  suited  to 
the  taste*  and  circumstances  of  her  listeners,  that  each 
felt  that  a  personal  favor  was  granted,  or  a  personal  appli 
cation  intended. 

Mrs.  Dan-jell,  sitting  in  an  easy  chair  by  the  window, 
looking  out  with  the  apparent  listlessness,  but  real  pre- 
occupation, which  so  often  characterizes  the  manner  of 
deeply  bereaved  persons,  felt  at  last  the  magnetism  of  this 
steady  flow  of  chatter,  and  interrupted  her  own  thought 
«o  listen. 

"Rebecca,"  she  said  at  length,  "  why  don't  you  write 
stories,  and  sell  them?  You  might  make  your  fortune." 

"  No,  madam,"  said  Rebecca,  "  my  stories  would  never 
bear  Avriting  out." 

"Not  if  you  really  set  yourself  about  the  work  Avith  the 
proper  amount  of  determination?" 

Rebecca  smiled.  "  I  think,  madam,  the  smallest  amount 
of '  determination,'  as  you  say,  would  put  every  story  out  of 
my  brain  forever.  I  never  think  of  stories,  unless  I  have 
the  listeners  about  me.  The  very  idea  of  going  away  by 
myself  to  write  one  out,  would  imply  a  failure." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  75 

"  Then  you  are  purely  an  improvisatrice  ?     I  am  sorry." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  am  not,"  said  Rebecoa,  quietly. 

"Have  you,  then,  no  ambition?" 

"  Very  little  of  that  kind.  I  would  rather  hold  my  gift, 
if  I  have  one,  for  those  I  love." 

"  Yes,  but  pardon  me,  Rebecca,  you  seem  to  have  your 
living  to  make." 

"  And  seem,  too,  just  now,  do  1  not,  to  be  making  it;  at 
least,  getting  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  earning  it  richly.  But  I  am  too  truly  your  friend 
to  be  quite  satisfied  with  the  way  you  are  doing  it.  Of 
course,  Rebecca,  if  I  were  selfish,  I  should  want  to  keep 
you  always  with  me,  for  you  are  doing  me  such  service 
as  no  one  ever  did  before,  in  the  way  of  household  assist- 
ance. But  I  cannot  help  thinking  you  are  fitted  for  some- 
thing so  much  higher." 

Rebecca  looked  up  with  a  grateful  smile. 

"And  I,"  she  said,  "  have  been  thinking  how  much 
better  oft'  I  am  than  the  majority  of  women,  so  perfectly 
dependent  as  I.  My  history  is  not  one  which  I  ever  refer 
to  with  pleasure ;  but  I  may,  at  least,  tell  you  that  I  have 
no  ties,  none  whatever,  outside  this  town,  in  which  I  have 
lived  but  a  few  weeks.  I  have,  then,  nobody  to  please  but 
myself.  Of  the  few  vocations  open  to  women,  I  have, 
seemingly  by  accident,  fallen  into  the  very  one  which  I 
believe  myself  most  capable  of  filling.  It  is  womanly ;  it 
gives  me  a  good  and  secure  home ;  it  pays  me  quite  as 
much  as  the  laws  and  customs  of  the  world  allow  any  but 
the  most  gifted  women  to  earn.  I  am  more  than  con- 
tented, I  am  happy.  What  more  can  I  ask  ?  " 

"  But  you  might  teach,  and  so  be  making  a  position  for 
yourself,  and  working  for  your  own  advancement." 

"  I  shall  never  teach,"  said  Rebecca,  firmly  but  quietly, 
"  even  if  I  were  fitted  for  it,  which  may  be  doubtful. 
That  avocation,  as  well  as  the  other  of  sewing,  is  so 


76  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

crowded  now,  with  those  who  have  not  enough  pride,  or 
else  too  much  vanity,  to  be  found  doing  anything  that  is 
not  'gentoel,'  that,  for  every  one  who  succeeds,  some 
other  one  must  fail.  Women  have  enough  to  struggle 
against  in  the  world,  without  competing  ruinously  with 
each  other.  In  my  present  position,  I  do  not  feel  that  I 
am  standing  in  the  place  of  any  one  else." 

"No.  Annie,  who  left  me,  went  into  the  mills,  and 
thinks  herself  much  better  off  than  when  she  was  here." 

"  While  the  heat,  the  dirt,  the  noise,  the  coarse  associ- 
tions  of  the  mills,  are,  to  say  the  least,  no  way  congenial 
to  me." 

"But  Mr.  Darrell  is  just  now  wanting  an  accountant  in 
his  office.  How  would  that  place  suit  you?" 

"No  better,  at  least  for  the  present.  There  are  women, 
and  all  honor  to  them,  who  feel  themselves  strong  enough 
and  pure  enough  to  compete  with  men  for  such  occupa- 
tions. Just  now  I  am  very  weary ;  I  need  rest,  seclusion, 
a  home ;  I  am  willing  to  give  the  best  I  have,  the  best, 
perhaps,  that  any  woman  has,  in  exchange  for  it ;  that  is, 
patient,  faithful,  loving  help.  If,  on  these  terms,  you  are 
willing  to  keep  me,  let  us  say  no  more  about  it." 

"  Shall  I  say  that  I  still  must  think  it  rather  a  pity  that 
you  are  not  more  ambitious  ?  " 

Rebecca's  face  grew  a  little  sad.  "Ambition,"  she 
said,  "  seems  to  me  to  have,  somehow,  gotten  to  mean 
greed.  Mrs.  Darrell,  I  am  ambitious ;  not  in  the  way 
which  confounds  all  uses,  and  makes  the  more  shining, 
and  not  the  more  essential  ones,  to  be  coveted.  Without 
ever  having  thought  much  about  it,  I  feel  just  this,  that  it  is 
a  great  pity  that  women  should  have  so  generally  adopted 
the  masculine  form  of  ambition,  which  has  the  luck,  now, 
of  ruling  the  world.  A  woman's  ambition,  it  seems  to 
me,  should  be,  to  be  womanly." 

"I  like  not  that  term,"  said  Laura;  "it  is  commonly 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  77 

used  to  express  something  raw,  immature;  simply,  I  think, 
because  of  the  state  of  rank  uufinisli  in  which  woman  has 
hitherto  been  kept." 

"Very  true.  But  how  shall  women  ever  attain  the 
perfection  of  their  type,  except  by  constantly  and  con- 
scientiously asserting  its  pure  characteristics  ?  When  I 
see  women,  in  their  eagerness  to  progress — that  is  the 
word,  I  believe  —  simply  aping  men,  I  think  of  the  spider 
crab,  which,  you  know,  walks  backwards.  If  the  best 
that  woman  can  ever  be  is  a  weak  imitation  of  man, 
heaven  help  the  race." 

Mrs.  Darrell  was  listening  with  deep  interest. 

"You  said  you  were  ambitious,"  she  said.  "I  am  still 
waiting  for  an  explanation  of  your  meaning." 

Rebecca  smiled. 

"Perhaps,"  she  replied,  "I  have  said  more  than  I  can 
substantiate.  What  I  meant  was  simply  this:  I  have  my 
living  to  earn ;  that  is  a  necessity,  not  an  ambition.  But 
if  I  could  make  a  thousand  dollars  a  year,  by  doing  some- 
thing which  is  essentially  a  man's  business ;  by  which  I 
mean,  something  which  necessitates  a  rude  publicity;  traf- 
ficking in  a  general  way ;  steady,  physical  exertion,  such  as 
is  incompatible  with  the  delicacy  of  the  female  organism; 
or  any  business  which  engages  especially  the  selfish  pro- 
pensities, I  would  regard  it  as  utterly  unfit  for  me,  beneath 
my  womanhood,  beneath  my  ambition.  On  the  contrary, 
what  I  will  ever  seek  for,  is  an  employment  which,  while 
it  does  not  ignore  physical  exertion,  yet  calls  principally 
into  play  the  unselfish,  emotional,  religious,  womanly 
feelings.  A  girl  who  loves  to  work  in  the  mills,  is  not  fit 
to  have  the  care  of  children.  That  is  a  field  for  a  true 
woman.  I  have  been  very  wordy ;  have  I  made  myself  at 
all  understood  ?  " 

"Perfectly,  and  have,  besides,  shown  me  how  nature 
draws  her  line  between  the  sexes;  a  thing  I  never  clearly 


78  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

saw  before.  That  is  why  you  would  not  like  to  be  an 
accountant." 

"The  range  of  intellectual  uses  is  middle-ground, 
common  to  both  sexes;  but  I  do  think  that  sphere  which 
I  have  mentioned  as  pertaining  to  woman  exclusively,  is 
still  the  higher  one.  Mrs.  Darrell,  I  think  a  poet  is  not  so 
noble  as  a  mother." 

"Shakspeare  beside  Mrs.  Moss?" 

"No;  Shakspeare  beside  Mary  of  Nazareth,  or  even 
Mary,  the  mother  of  Washington.  Any  poetling  of  to- 
day will  do  to  place  beside  Mrs.  Moss,  to  learn  his  incom- 
parable littleness." 

"Well,  Rebecca,  you  are  only  making  it  still  more 
difficult  for  me  to  retain  you  in  my  employ.  I  cannot 
reconcile  my  conscience  to  seeing  you  setting  tables  and 
dusting  furniture,  and  washing  and  dressing  my  children." 

"You  are  very  kind,  Mrs.  Darrell;  but  let  me  put  it  in 
another  light.  You  have  here  commenced  and  are  carry- 
ing on  the  enterprise  of  a  home,  a  very  vast  undertaking. 
It  includes  the  gravest  responsibilities  concerning  your 
husband,  yourself,  and  three  living  children,  to  say  nothing 
of  other  persons  employee1  in  the  house,  or  occasional 
guests.  There  is  nothing  small  or  unimportant  about 
this  charge,  for  every  one  knows  that  it  is  the  smallest 
matters  about  a  home,  the  ordering  and  dusting  of  furni- 
ture, the  arranging  of  lights  and  shades,  the  opening  and 
shutting  of  doors,  which,  so  far  as  comfort  and  homeliness 
go,  make  up  the  most  momentous  aggregate.  You  justly 
feel  that  this  great  enterprise,  from  its  largest  to  its  least 
duty,  is  the  work  of  your  life;  the  one  sole  thing  for  which 
God  made  you  a  woman.  But  it  grows  upon  you,  at  last 
it  gets  beyond  you,  you  are  no  longer  equal  to  it.  God, 
in  his  Providence,  has  given  me  no  such  charge  of  my 
own;  but  he  has  given  me  womanly  functions  all  the 
same ;  quick  perceptions,  quiet  ways,  a  love  of  order  and 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  79 

seemliness,  a  love  of  children  and  a  capacity  to  amuse 
and  instruct  them,  after  a  simple  fashion  of  my  own, 
personal  and  incommunicable.  What,  then,  is  my  duty  ? 
Shall  I  ignore  these,  the  highest  gifts  of  my  nature,  in 
order  that  I  may  become  a  small,  feeble  parody,  a  weak 
burlesque  upon  man  ?  I  think  not.  Let  me  rather  find 
work,  if  not  my  own  individually,  at  least  my  own  func- 
tionally. Let  me  be  a  woman  still,  a  helper,  if  not  a 
designer,  of  woman's  work." 

"Rebecca,  where  did  you  get  all  these  ideas?" 

"  I  think,  madam,  they  were  mostly  born  in  me ;  came 
with  my  womanly  temperament." 

"You  have  a  womanly  temperament,  that  is  true.  I 
think  you  could  never  be  strong-minded." 

Rebecca  smiled. 

"Perhaps,  too,  I  have  told  you  only  part  of  the  truth. 
Though  my  ideas,  as  you  call  them,  are  inherent  in  my 
temperament,  circumstances  also  have  aided  in  their 
development.  I  have  been  so  placed  that  I  have  been 
obliged  to  think  of  these  things,  and,  without  much  use 
of  logic,  I  have  followed  my  feelings  or  instincts,  and 
have  thus  arrived  at  my  present  conclusions." 

"There  is  still  another  objection,  which  I  think  of,  to 
your  present  way  of  living,  which  I  should  never  present 
to  a  woman  of  common  or  coarse  instincts;  but  you  have 
so  high  and  so  true  an  estimate  of  woman's  duties  as  a 
wife  and  mother,  that  it  seems  strange  to  me  that  you 
have  not  considered  how  much  you  compromise  your 
own  prospects  in  that  direction,  by  accepting  the  position 
of  a  domestic  servant." 

Sadness  and  tears  filled  Rebecca's  eyes.  She  hesitated 
before  replying. 

"If  these  things  entered  into  my  present  calculations, 
which  they  do  not,"  she  said,  "I  still  should  scarcely 
Change  my  position  on  that  account.  There  are,  no  doubt, 


80  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

a  great  many  men,  weak,  vain,  in  the  masculine  sense 
ambitious,  who  would  shun  any  woman  whom  they  found 
engaged  in  nursery  duties.  Yet,  I  cannot  help  thinking 
that  there  are  a  few  men  in  the  world  who  are  capable  of 
discernment  in  these  matters ;  who  see,  or  could  be  made 
to  see,  that,  rightly  considered,  the  care  and  forming  of 
immortal  souls  is  a  higher  employment  than  any  mere 
intellectual  labor.  It  seems  to  me  that  one  of  the  crying 
sins  of  the  women  of  these  times,  is  the  indifference  with 
which  they  consign  their  children,  during  the  very  age 
in  which  they  are  forming  the  moral  habits  of  their  lives, 
to  the  care  of  ignorant,  irreligious  nurse-girls,  often  of 
foreign  extraction,  to  whom,  from  the  circumstances  of 
their  lives,  habits  of  pure  thought  and  strictly  virtuous 
action  are  impossible." 

"  Oh,  that  is  so  true,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Darrell.  "  It  has 
been  my  great  trouble,  that  I  could  not  find  a  nurse-girl  who 
would  not  teach  my  children  to  lie,  and  make  them  very 
careless  about  taking  things  not  their  own." 

"Very  well,  then,  it  seems  to  me  that  a  woman  with  the 
necessary  courage  —  for  it  does  require,  in  most  women,  a 
good  deal  of  moral  courage  to  face  universal  custom  in 
such  a  matter — to  undertake  these  duties  in  a  conscien- 
tious spirit,  need  not  fear  but  there  will  be  a  few  men  who 
will  honor  her  for  it.  At  any  rate,  it  is  only  a  man  capable 
of  such  feelings  that  a  woman  of  self-respect  and  true 
womanly  feeling  would  wish  to  marry." 

"That  is  very  true."  And  Mrs.  Darrell  paused  to 
ponder  over  this  new  view  of  the  matter.  For  her  quick 
eye  had  recently  noticed  a  growing  leniency  in,  the 
doctor's  manner  toward  Rebecca,  which  gave  to  these 
remarks  a  peculiar  interest.  There  was  a  transparency 
and  want  of  artifice  in  Rebecca's  character,  which  the 
loctor  at  first  had  failed  to  comprehend.  Is  there  a  man 
living,  I  wonder,  who  can  at  first  glance  distinguish  purity, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  81 

if  it  exists  without  prudery?  This  woman  was  as  pure 
in  heart  and  soul  and  intention  as  a  lily  just  bathed  in 
dew;  and  yet  there  were  times  when  the  doctor,  looking 
at  her  with  critical  eyes,  queried  with  himself  whether  a 
whiteness  so  white  would  shrink  from  the  stain  of  a 
finger-tip  laid  upon  it.  A  few  trials  so  delicately  put  forth, 
that  Rebecca  was  entirely  unaware  of  their  significance, 
satisfied  him;  and  then,  having  found  purity  joined  to 
grace  and  gentleness  and  worth,  the  doctor  began  to  feel 
attracted  toward  it.  Mrs.  Darrell,  with  a  woman's  intui- 
tions concerning  those  she  loves,  had  felt  and  interpreted 
the  change,  even  while  Rebecca,  conscious  only  of  a 
genial  and  grateful  warmth  in  the  doctor's  manner,  which 
cheered  without  at  all  alarming  her,  was  utterly  ignorant 
.of  its  true  meaning. 

One  bright  spring  day,  Rebecca  had  taken  the  two  little 
girls  out  into  a  rough  pasture,  a  half  mile  from  the  house, 
to  gather  wild  flowers.  The  pasture  was  skirted  on  its 
upper  side  by  the  road,  which  ran  around  the  hill,  while 
below,  it  grew  up  into  a  thicket  of  white  birches,  through 
which  a  winding  path  led  to  a  brook,  along  which  grew 
cowslips  and  water-cresses.  The  path  was  steep  and 
slippery,  and  the  little  party,  having  been  down  to  the 
brook  side,  were  just  emerging  from  the  bushes  into  the 
open  field,  when  Mabel  tripped,  and  Rebecca,  springing 
to  catch  her,  stepped  upon  a  stone,  and  so  slipping,  caught 
her  foot  between  two  birch  saplings  which  grew  from  one 
root,  and  one  of  which  Mabel  had  caught,  and  pulled 
down  by  her  weight,  in  her  efforts  to  save  herself. 

As  Mabel  regained  her  footing  and  released  the  sapling, 
it  sprang  back,  causing  intense  pain  to  Rebecca.  The 
strength  of  both  children  was  quite  unequal  to  the  task  of 
releasing  the  foot,  and  Rebecca,  faint  and  terrified,  looked 
about  vaguely  for  succor. 

Just  at  that  moment  the  old  gray  horse  appeared  upon 


82  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  road,  and  the  children  set  up  a  shrill  cry  to  the  doctor 
for  assistance.  Now  the  doctor  had  not  a  particle  of  that 
external  grace  Which  we  call  gallantry  in  his  composition; 
but  he  had  a  kind  heart,  and  what  he  called  a  weakness 
for  women.  He  no  sooner  saw,  therefore,  that  Rebecca 
was  in  trouble,  than  he  stopped  his  horse,  and,  without 
waiting  to  fasten  it,  sprang  over  the  fence  with  the  agility 
of  a  boy,  and  took  the  shortest  path  for  the  bushes.  It 
required  but  an  instant  to  comprehend  the  situation.  The 
doctor's  old  jack-knife  was  evidently  not  equal  to  it,  but 
he  quickly  produced  a  pocket  case  of  surgical  instruments, 
from  which  he  drew  a  weapon  of  more  formidable  powers, 
one  stroke  from  which  so  weakened  the  sapling  that  it  was 
the  work  of  an  instant  to  release  the  foot. 

Rebecca  sank  upon  the  ground,  unable,  for  a  moment,' 
to  stand. 

"  It  was  lucky,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  I  had  that  case 
with  me.  I  don't  often  carry  it;  but  I  had  a  surgical 
operation  to  perform  to-day,  and  knew  I  should  need  it. 
Evelyn,  take  this  cup,  and  go  down  to  the  brook,  and  bring 
some  water.  I  always  carry  a  rubber  cup  in  my  pocket, 
because  I  ride  far  sometimes,  and  I  like  to  stop  at  a  spring. 
You'll  get  over  this  faintness  in  a  minute,  and  then  I'll 
take  you  home  in  the  chaise." 

While  the  girls  were  gone,  Rebecca's  eye  fell  on  the 
pocket  case,  which  lay  by  her  side.  There  was  nothing 
singular  about  it,  except  that  upon  the  inside  of  the  flap, 
by  which  it  was  fastened,  was  a  small  miniature,  done  in 
oil ;  it  was  certainly  an  odd  place  for  a  miniature  to  be  ; 
but  there  it  was,  and  Rebecca,  looking  steadily  at  it,  felt 
the  blood  rushing  back  upon  her  heart  and  her  eyes  grow- 
ing dim.  In  an  instant  she  had  fainted. 

"  Ho,  ho !  "  said  the  doctor,  "  what  now  !  what  now ! " 

The  girls  had  not  yet  returned  from  the  brook,  but, 
relieved  from  fear  by  the.doctor's  presence  with  Rebecca, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  83 

were  coming  up  through  the  bushes,  with  much  tumultuous1 
shouting  and  laughter.  The  doctor  heard  it,  and  disap 
proved.  He  had  a  horror  of  romps. 

".Zfoys/"  he  cried,  in  his  solemnest  tones,  "come  here 
Rebecca  has  fainted." 

That  intelligence,  together  with  the  implied  reproof, 
sobered  them  at  once,  and  they  hastened  to  the  spot. 
The  doctor  was  cool  and  practiced,  and  he  soon  had 
Rebecca  restored  to  her  senses.  Her  first  glance  was 
towards  the  pocket-case.  The  doctor  followed  her  eye. 

"  Oh,  ho,"  he  said,  "  afraid  of  cold  steel.  Steel  is  very 
harmless  — very  harmless,  indeed,  if  you  keep  out  of  the 
way  of  it.*" 

There  was  something  in  Rebecca's  eye  which  the  theory 
of  cold  steel  did  not  solve ;  and  the  doctor,  looking  at  her 
again,  knew  it.  Her  glance  was  still  fixed  upon  the  min- 
iature. To  her  returning  vision,  it  wore  a  different  look 
from  the  one  which  had  so  affected  her. 

"I  fancied,"  she  said,  "a  moment  ago,  that  I  knew  that 
face.  I  believe  I  was  mistaken."  % 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  pensively,  "  I  guess  you  was. 
I  don't  see  how  you  could  know  it.  How  do  you  feel 
now?" 

"Very much  better.     I  think  I  can  walk  to  the  chaise." 

She  was  still  very  pale,  and  though  the  doctor  certainly 
was  not  so  lover-like  in  his  attentions  as  a  youth  in  his 
twenties  might  have  been,  he  was,  nevertheless,  very  con- 
siderate. 

"You  can't  walk  over  this  rough  ground,  alone,"  he 
said;  " you'd  better  take  my  arm.  We'll  go  slow.  Chil- 
dren, you  go  on  ahead,  and  hold  the  horse.  I  guess  she 
won't  run  away.  She's  pretty  well  used  to  standing,  but 
you  may  as  well  hold  her.  Now,  Rebecca,  lean  on  me  as 
heavily  as  you  choose;  I  can  bear  your  weight." 

Rebecca  did  lean  on  him.     She  was  weaker  than  he  had 


84  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

supposed,  and  he  put  his  arm  about  her  waist,  for  her 
further  support.  Now,  there  was  about  the  doctor  a  cer- 
tain capacity  to  adapt  himself  to  feminine  weakness  and 
dependence,  which  was,  perhaps,  the  secret  of  half  his 
success  in  his  profession.  He  knew  how  to  take  hold  of  a 
woman  so  as  to  inspire  the  fullest  trust,  and  at  the  same 
time  afford  the  most  perfect  relief.  It  is  the  true  secret 
of  masculine  protection,  and  to  know  it  gives  a  man  great 
command  over  female  sensibilities.  Rebecca  had  other 
causes  for  gratitude  to  the  doctor,  but  nothing  had  taken 
so  dangerous  a  hold  on  her  emotions,  as  this  firm  support, 
so  freely  and  tenderly,  yet  so  fearlessly  given.  In  that 
moment  of  weakness  and  self-distrust,  there  flowed  into 
her  heart  a  sweet  sense  of  what  it  would  be  to  her,  always 
to  be  so  supported,  in  times  of  emergency.  She  banished 
the  feeling,  instantly,  as  if  it  had  been  sinful,  and  with  the 
very  effort  strove  to  regain  her  independence  of  motion. 
But  that  was  useless.  They  had  reached  the  wall,  and 
the  doctor  said,  gravely : 

"  Now,  give  yourself  up  to  me.  I'll  put  you  over  safely, 
and  then  I'll  lift  you  into  the  chaise.  You  will  see  how 
easy  it  is." 

When  they  were  seated  in  the  chaise,  the  doctor  said : 
"  You  asked  me  about  that  picture.  Five  or  six  years 
ago,  I  brought  a  man  out  of  what  he  considered  a  very 
dangerous  situation.  I  suppose  it  was  dangerous  —  I 
suppose,  with  some  kinds  of  treatment,  he  might  very 
easily  have  died.  In  fact,  I  reported  the  case  to  the 
medical  journals,  and  I  think  the  profession  took  that 
view  of  it.  He  gave  me  that  case  of  instruments.  It  is 
a  better  one  than  I  had  ever  owned  then.  I've  got  another 
now  as  good,  but  that  was  the  best  I  had  ever  seen  when 
he  gave  it  to  me.  He  had  a  friend  who  was  an  artist — 
had  been  with  him  during  that  sickness,  and  who  painted 
the  portraits  of  all  the  family  about  that  time.  He  took  a 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  85 

fancy  to  put  that  miniature  in  the  inside  of  the  case.  I 
don't  think  any  more  of  it  for  the  picture.  I  don't  often 
carry  it,  but  I  happened  to  have  it  with  me  to-day.  The 
man  was  Richard  Gladstone,  half-brother  to  Abraham 
Gladstone,  in  the  village." 

Rebecca  drew  a  long  breath  when  she  heard  that  name, 
and  the  doctor,  who  had  been  watching  her  keenly,  saw 
that  she  felt  relieved. 

"I  suppose  I  was  just  on  the  point  of  fainting  when  I 
saw  the  picture,"  she  said,  "  and  my  imagination  distorted 
it.  I  certainly  never  heard  of  the  man  you  mention 
before." 

The  doctor  h'ad  reasons  of  his  own  for  saying  nothing 
more  upon  the  subject.  But  it  occurred  to  him  that, 
though  Gladstone  was  in  South  America,  Marston,  the 
painter,  was  in  New  York;  and  if  this  woman  ever  had 
known  the  former,  a  few  well  put  questions  might  elicit 
the  fact,  and  do  no  harm  to  anybody. 

"A  man  wants  to  know  something  more  about  a 
woman,"  soliloquized  the  doctor,  "  than  just  what  she  is 
herself,  if  he  thinks  of  mai'rying  her.  He  wants  to  know 
something  about  her  family  and  antecedents.  Rebecca 
March  is  a  good  woman.  What  her  family  and  antece- 
dents may  be,  I  can't  say." 

From  which  it  may  be  inferred  that  the  doctor  had 
ideas  of  marriage. 


A  WOMAN  S    SECRET. 


IX. 


HYSTERICS. 


If  the  life  of  Mrs.  Darrell  at  this  point  were  the  least 
exceptional,  it  would  scarcely  be  worth  narrating  here; 
but  it  is  essentially  the  life  of  thousands  of  females  in  this 
country  of  irrepressible  activity  and  fierce  competition; 
and  where  the  subject  is  a  woman  of  energy  and  thought- 
fulness,  the  results  are,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  similar, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  those  hereinafter  depicted. 
Therefore,  if  the  gentlemen  of  this  enlightened  land  feel 
any  uneasiness  concerning  the  increasing  tendency  to 
"  strong-mindedness "  manifested  by  their  wives  and 
daughters,  let  them  consider  the  source  to  which  this 
tendency  is  to  be  rightfully  attributed,  before  condemning 
it  with  too  great  vehemence.  Happy  are  they  if  these 
are  the  worst  results  of  their  neglect ;  for,  however  it  is 
to  be  lamented,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  the  unwritten 
records  of  fallen  women  offer  many  most  pregnant  hints 
in  the  same  direction. 

Ralph  Darrell's  grief  for  the  loss  of  his  son  was  doubt- 
less keen.  For  a  few  weeks,  the  house  seemed  still  to 
him ;  he  missed  the  baby's  cooing  voice,  the  baby's 
pattering  feet;  but  one  unfailing  resource  abundantly 
sufficed  for  the  occasion.  The  early  bitterness  of  sorrow 
he  felt,  but  that  later  stage,  wherein  alone  the  sweet, 
spiritual  ministry  of  grief  is  experienced,  he  staved  off 
by  means  of  a  fierce,  absorbing  struggle  with  business. 
If  the  freshness  of  the  morning  brought  up  the  tender 
haunting  memory,  he  laid  the  beautiful  ghost  at  once,  by 
the  reflection  that  it  was  steamer  day,  and  a  telegram  of 
European  news  might  be  awaiting  him  at  the  office.  If 


A  WOMAN'S    SECRET.  87 

at  evening  the  rosy  hush  of  twilight  and  the  whisper  of 
sweet  winds  among  the  leaves  set  the  secret  fountains  of 
his  heart  astir,  he  grew  uneasy,  informed  his  wife  that  he 
had  letters  to  write,  and  betook  himself  again  to  that  dim 
and  dusty  solitude,  whose  air  was  fatal  to  all  sentiment 
and  emotion.  In  two  months'  time,  his  boy's  life  was 
something  almost  as  remote  and  unreal  to  his  present 
existence  as  if  he  had  lived  in  the  time  of  the  Pharaohs. 

"Laura,"  he  said,  one  morning,  a  frown  bending  his 
eyebrows,  "how  did  that  spot  in  the  carpet  come  to  be 
so  much  more  worn  than  the  rest  ?  " 

A  pang  that  was  like  an  arrow  shot  through  Laura's 
heart,  but  it  was  worse  than  useless  to  manifest  her 
emotion  to  him. 

"That  is  where  I  sat  all  last  winter  to  rock  baby  Ralph 
to  sleep." 

To  her,  tender  memories  made  the  spot  as  sacred  as  her 
baby's  grave ;  to  him,  it  was  a  mere  blotch  that  damaged 
the  carpet  by  so  many  dollars  and  cents.  The  house  was 
full,  to  her  eyes,  of  little  touching  mementos  of  her 
baby's  life,  which  kept  the  thought  of  him  constantly  near 
her  heart;  marks  and  tokens,  and  visible  sign  manuals, 
from  which  her  loving  eyes  and  cherishing  memory  could 
frame  a  whole  history  of  her  darling's  joys  and  sorrows, 
his  gambols  and  his  illnesses,  which  to  her  husband  were 
mere  lifeless,  soulless  scratches. 

It  was  this  loneliness  in  her  sorrow  which  seemed  to 
be  breaking  her  heart.  As  the  long,  bright,  spring  days 
came  on  with  their  lassitude  and  oppression,  she  had 
no  strength  to  meet  them.  Force  and  energy  seemed 
slowly  slipping  away  from  her.  She  had  no  pain,  no 
symptoms  of  illness,  which  any  physician  could  lay  hold 
of;  but  her  cheek  grew  pale,  her  eye  lost  its  light,  her  lip 
its  smiling  curve,  and  weariness  and  lassitude  possessed 
her  whole  frame. 


88  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Darrell  to  his  brother-in-law,  "I 
wish  you'd  do  something  for  Laura.  She  seems  to  need 
tonics.  Can't  you  fix  her  up  some  bitters,  or  something?" 

"H'm!  h'm!"  said  the  doctor,  pensively.  "She  don't 
need  bitters  so  much  as  sweets" 

Mr.  Darrell  was  puzzled.  He  never  did  understand  the 
doctor. 

"Well,  sweets  then.  I  don't  care  what  it  is,  so  you 
get  some  life  in  her  eye,  some  strength  into  her  frame." 

"Darrell,  medicine  won't  do  anything  for  your  wife. 
She  needs  a  husband." 

Mr.  Darrell's  face  flushed,  and  he  looked  angry. 

"Bulwer  says,"  continued  the  doctor,  deliberately, 
"'the  match  for  beauty  is  a  man,  not  a  money-chest.^  I 
may  not  have  got  the  words,  but  that's  the  meaning.  I'd 
advise  you  to  give  less  attention  to  your  business  for  a 
little  while,  say  a  few  months  this  summer,  and  doctor 
your  wife  yourself.  It  won't  break  you." 

"Why,  that's  preposterous.  Nothing  ails  her,  only 
she's  run  down  a  little.  She  can  go  to  Saratoga,  if  she 
likes.  Very  likely  the  waters  would  do  her  good.  I'll 
propose  it  to  her." 

Mr.  Darrell  walked  away  with  a  vague  idea,  caught 
from  the  doctor's  significant  "humph,"  that  the  waters 
would  not  do  her  any  good,  and  he  muttered  to  himself: 

"These  confounded  women  doctors.  I  believe  they'd 
make  a  fool  of  a  female  angel.  They  know  which  side 
their  bread  is  buttered  on." 

There  came  a  bright  June  Sabbath  evening.  The  day  had 
been  one  of  those  perfect,  gem-like  days,  which  only  June 
and  October,  of  all  the  year,  aiford.  Not  a  cloud,  not  a  flaw 
of  wind,  not  a  breath  of  cold  or  dampness,  to  break  the 
perfect  untroubled  serenity  and  repose.  Even  Mr.  Darrell's 
tightly-strung  fibers  were  relaxed  a  little;  the  soft  June 
sunshine,  the  angel-like  ministry  of  the  whispering  breeze, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  89 

the  smile  of  nature's  most  persuasive  eloquence,  thrilled 
his  heart,  and  he  really  had  a  glimmering  of  a  delight 
which  could  not  be  paid  for  in  coin  of  the  realm.  To 
Laura,  the  softening  influences  of  the  day  had  been  partly 
counteracted  by  the  tone  and  vigor  of  the  morning  sermon; 
a  sermon  from  Job,  touching  with  deepest,  tenderest  pathos, 
the  springs  of  human  trouble;  yet  catching,  at  last,  the 
resonant  blare  of  the  golden  horn,  with  which  the  ancient 
singer  rouses  the  soul  to  its  serenest  trust  and  confidence 
in  the  Most  High.  At  the  close  of  this  sweet,  prophetic 
day,  which  had  brought  Heaven  so  near,  both  to  her 
material  and  spiritual  vision,  she  felt  that  she  could  bow 
with  patience  and  hope  to  the  decree  of  her  Heavenly 
Father;  she  could  even,  with  a  little  help — just  one  steady, 
strong  uplifting  from  her  husband's  arm,  regain  her  equi- 
poise, accept  the  burden  of  her  sorrow,  and  bear  it  with 
womanly  fortitude  and  heroism.  As  they  walked  through 
the  shrubbery  together,  in  the  twilight,  she  said  to  him  : 

"  Ralph,  how  much  money  are  you  worth  ?  " 

"Oh !  I  don't  know.  Not  half  so  much  as  I  ought  to 
be  at  my  time  of  life." 

"  But  your  business  is  so  well  under  way  now,  can't  you 
relax  a  little  in  your  personal  endeavors,  and  so  have  more 
time  for  me  ?  " 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Laura.  If  a  man 
don't  attend  to  his  business,  his  business  will  soon  attend 
to  him.  Six  months  of  careless  handling  is  enough  to  ruin 
any  enterprise." 

"  But  you  say  you  do  not  care  for  money,  and  you  know 
I  do  not.  If  this  trade  of  money-getting  proves  so  hard  a 
master,  why  not  give  it  up  altogether?  We  will  go  into  a 
small  house,  and  keep  only  one  servant,  or  not  any,  if  you 
like,  and  then  I  am  sure  we  might  live  on  what  you  have 
already  made." 

He  smiled,  a  smile  intended  to  be  sarcastic. 
D2 


90  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Love  in  a  cottage !  I  thought  we  exploded  that  hum- 
bug long  ago." 

"Ralph,  are  you  any  happier  now  than  you  were  the 
first  year  of  our  marriage,  when  you  kept  store  and  I  kept 
house,  with  very  little  help  from  anybody  about  either?" 

"  Oh,  that  time  is  all  well  enough,  to  look  back  upon. 
If  I  hadn't  any  more  to  think  of  now,  than  I  had  then,  I 
should  go  crazy.  Laura,  business  is  the  life  of  my  life." 

"  Dear,  you  used  to  say  that  of  me." 

"  Oh,  that  was  in  our  courting  days.  A  man  can't 
always  be  courting." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Laura,  as  a  desperate  push,  to  get 
at  the  real  state  of  her  husband's  mind. 

"  Why  not ! "  he  repeated,  impatiently.  "I  don't  know, 
unless  because  a  man  outgrows  it.  It  takes  a  young  man, 
Laura,  for  that  sort  of  thing;  a  man  who  has  the  fresh- 
ness of  his  youth  in  him.  You  rub  off  that  in  business." 

"  I  have  seen  some  widowers  who  managed  it  very  well," 
said  Laura,  demurely. 

He  made  a  grimace. 

"Oh !  to  win  a  woman,  a  man's  got  to  make  a  fool  of 
himself,  I  suppose.  It  will  do  for  an  occasion ;  but,  if  a 
man  has  his  bread  and  butter  to  earn,  the  sooner  he  gets 
back  into  his  right  senses,  the  better  for  him." 

"  Ralph,  it  is  not  your  bread  and  butter  that  you  are 
spending  all  your  energies  to  earn  ;  but  houses,  and  lands, 
and  mills,  and  superfluous  thousands,  to  impoverish,  more 
probably  than  to  make  rich,  your  own  and  your  children's 
lives;  to  make  hard,  and  narrow,  and  selfish, and  shallow, 
what  ought  to  be  broad,  and  deep,  and  noble,  and  true. 
When  we  were  first  married,  you  used  to  enjoy  reading  as 
much  as  I.  We  spent  no  happier  hours  together,  than 
those  at  evening,  when  I  sewed,  and  you  read  aloud  from 
poem,  or  story,  or  magazine.  I  shall  always  love  'Evan- 
geline'  better  than  all  other  poems,  because  I  never  read 


A  WOMAN'S   SECRET.  91 

it  but  it  brings  back  to  me  those  charming  hours  when  we 
sat  side  by  side,  reading  it  out  of  one  book,  your  eye 
kindling  as  my  heart  throbbed  to  each  tender  and  ennobling 
sentiment.  The  other  day  I  read 'Maud,'  and  cried  over 
almost  every  page  of  it,  because  I  knew  you  would  never 
share  the  pleasure  with  me,  and  so  give  it  two-fold  sweet- 
ness." 

"  Well,  dear,  you  see  I  lose  as  much  as  you.  I  know  I 
am  giving  up  a  great  deal,  but,  then,  it  is  for  your  sake,  as 
much  as  anybody's.  By  and  by,  I  shall  have  done  with 
business,  and  then  we  shall  renew  the  old  times." 

"  Ralph,"  said  Laura,  earnestly,  repeating  his  own  words, 
"It  takes  a  man  with  his  youth  in  him  for  these  things. 
You  are  killing  out  all  your  youthfulness  of  heart  and  soul. 
By  the  time  you  are  fifty,  your  better  nature  will  be  so 
shriveled  and  stai-ved,  that  I  question  if  it  can  ever  be 
resuscitated.  It  is  that,  more  even  than  my  own  desola- 
tion, that  I  protest  against." 

The  twilight  deepened,  and  they  entered  the  house. 
Ralph  stooped, 'in  the  dusk  of  the  hall,  and  pressed  a  kiss 
to  her  lips.  He  was  touched  with  remorse,  but  not  with 
repentance. 

A  week  later,  he  went  down  to  New  York  on  business. 
When  he  returned,  Laura  found  on  her  dressing-table  a 
case,  containing  a  handsome  set  of  diamonds,  with  this 
little  note : 

"  MY  DEAREST  WIFE  :  This  is  dear  little  Ralph's  birth- 
day. I  thought  you  would  like  to  know  that  I  did  not 
forget  it,  even  in  New  York.  Remember,  that  to  men  is 
given  a  different  calling  from  that  of  women,  and  never 
cease  to  love  and  pray  for  YOUR  HUSBAND." 

Laura  opened  the  case,  looked  at  it  coldly,  and  with  a 
sigh,  and  pushed  it  aside.  She  took  up  the  note  quite 
mechanically,  for  she  had  ceased  to  expect  what  her  heart 


92  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

still  longed  for;  but,  as  she  read  those  few  simple  words, 
tears  suffused  her  eyes,  and  she  pressed  it  again  and  again 
to  her  lips,  in  a  passion  of  weeping.  The  old  fountains 
of  tenderness  were  thrilled  anew ;  and  all  that  day  there 
went  singing  through  her  soul  the  same  sweet  flow  of 
rapture  that  made  her  wedding  day  the  happiest  of  her  life. 

Mr.  Darrell  saw  it,  and  felt  relieved.  He  had  done  his 
duty  now.  The  doctor  had  said  she  wanted  sweets.  A 
thousand  dollar  set  of  diamonds,  and  five  lines  of  sweet 
remembrance,  ought  to  last  her — well,  a  year  or  so.  With 
less  compunction  than  ever,  therefore,  he  went  on  with 
his  buying,  and  selling,  and  getting  gain ;  and  Laura,  let 
down  from  her  temporary  exaltation,  sank  deeper  than  ever 
into  that  terrible  slough,  so  well  known,  and  so  dreaded  by 
physicians,  and  pining,  starving  women ;  that  limbo  made 
up  of  despondency,  hysteria,  nervousness,  weary  days, 
and  sleepless  nights,  and  visions  and  phantoms  of  horror, 
that  should  beset  only  the  maniac  and  the  opium  eater. 
In  such  cases  the  victim  is  usually  well  pelted  with  epithets, 
"  spleeny,"  "lazy,"  "hypo-y."  Old  wives  exclaim,  "Let 
her  work  as  we  worked;  she'll  get  rid  of  her  nerves  then." 
The  more  charitable  prescribe  change  of  air  and  scene  — 
something  to  make  her  forget  her  whim.  Only  the  patient 
physician  stands  by  her,  the  man  of  knowledge,  and 
insight,  and  sympathy;  and  seeing  the  suffering,  and 
feeling  its  reality,  says,  with  tender,  cheerful  faith : 

"Let  us  have  patience  and  good  courage.  Nature  will 
exhaust  herself,  by  and  by,  with  these  protests.  You  will 
be  broken,  then,  and  weak  in  physical  strength,  the  fresh- 
ness and  the  beauty  of  your  youth  clean  gone ;  but  you 
will  be,  mayhap,  stronger  in  spirit,  serener  in  faith,  and 
you  will  take  up  the  burden  of  life  again,  with  a  deeper 
insight,  bought  by  experience,  a  nobler  courage,  anchored 
to  a  diviner  trust.  You  will  have  gained  heights  of  spir- 
itual experience,  where  no  man  can  follow  you" 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  98 

So  nature  ordains  her  priestesses;  so  Laura  Darrell 
reaped,  in  time,  from  this  sowing,  harvests  of  incalculable 
value. 

But  the  ripening  of  such  seed  does  not  come  till  after 
months,  and  perhaps  years,  of  torture.  The  exhausting 
heats  of  summer  came  on,  and  Laura  grew  thinner,  paler, 
more  spiritless,  till  at  last  her  husband  could  no  longer 
ignore  her  suffering.  He  had  appealed  to  the  doctor 
vainly.  A  brilliant  thought  occurred  to  him.  If  medicine 
could  not  reach  her  case,  the  evil  must  be  spiritual.  He 
would  bring  in  the  minister. 

The  church  in  Wyndhain  happened  to  be,  at  that  time, 
•without  a  supply.  But  in  an  adjoining  county  lived  a 
cousin  of  Mr.  Darrell,  a  man  of  eminence  in  his  profession, 
of  sound  theological  views,  and  every  way  a  man  to  be 
trusted.  To  Mr.  Linscott  he  would  apply.  He  sat  down, 
therefore,  and  wrote  him  a  letter,  stating  that,  since  the 
death  of  their  little  boy,  his  wife  had  seemed  to  be  suffering 
in  health;  the  doctor  had  been  consulted,  but  could  do 
nothing.  It  was  evidently  a  case  of  spiritual  malady. 
Would  Mr.  Linscott  pay  them  a  visit,  merely  in  a  casual 
way,  saying  nothing  about  this  letter  or  its  contents,  and 
see  if  he  could  not  so  argue  the  matter  as  to  bring  Mrs. 
Darrell  into  a  calmer  and  more  resigned  frame  of  mind  ? 

Mr.  Linscott  had  not  a  doubt  of  his  ability  to  do  so;  and 
well  pleased  to  be  able  to  render  a  service  to  his  cousin 
Darrell,  he  harnessed  his  shiny  black  horse  into  his  shiny 
black  chaise,  and  rode  over  to  Wyndham.  He  was  a  hand- 
some man,  erect,  imposing,  with  clear  complexion,  ruddy 
cheeks,  and  coal  black  eyes  and  hair.  He  was  not  an 
unkindly  man ;  but  his  chief  characteristic  was  his  firm- 
ness. He  had  his  own  ideas,  good  ideas  in  the  main, 
though  possibly  narrow,  and  he  stood  by  them. 

It  was  after  dinner,  when  Mr.  Darrell  had  returned  to 
the  office,  that  he  found  his  first  opportunity  of  opening 


94  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

his  mission  to  Mrs.  Darrell.  They  were  sitting  in  the 
library,  Laura  looking  the  exact  counterpait  of  her  picture 
over  the  mantel,  in  the  white  robe,  pinned  with  the  clus- 
tered garnets,  except  that  she  was  so  pale,  so  thin,  so 
chastened  in  expression. 

"  Cousin  Laura,"  said  Mr.  Linscott,  "  it  seems  to  me 
you  are  not  looking  quite  as  well  as  usual,  this  summer. 
You  have  less  color,  less  spirit.  I  hope  your  health  is  not 
suffering  ?  " 

"  The  summer  heat  seems  to  have  affected  me  rather 
more  than  usual,"  she  said,  instinctively  recognizing  the 
man's  purpose,  and  as  instinctively  shrinking  from  it. 

"  Can't  the  doctor  afford  you  any  relief?" 

"  Medicine,  so  far,  does  not  seem  to  have  benefited  me 
very  much." 

"  I  hope  your  spiritual  state  is  quite  satisfactory.  Do 
you  find  your  usual  enjoyment  in  religious  exercises?" 

Laura  hesitated.  This  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to 
whom  she  could  reveal  the  inner  sanctuary  of  her  heart ; 
yet  all  the  more,  because  she  knew  that  she  was  at  present 
more  than  usually  sensitive  upon  the  subject,  she  felt 
that  perhaps  she  ought  to  conquer  her  sensitiveness.  She 
replied,  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  in  any  very  confidential 
way: 

"At  times,  I  have." 

"And  not  always?  I  hope  there  is  no  shadow  of  cold- 
ness or  distrust  between  you  and  your  Heavenly  Father?" 

"  I  believe  Job  didnotalways  enjoy  unclouded  sunshine. 
I  confess  that  I  have  sympathized  with  that  worthy  more 
than  usually,  of  late." 

"Your  affliction  has  no  doubt  been  very  great,  but  there 
is  strength  in  heaven  for  all  times  of  trial,  if  we  but 
make  the  proper  application  for  it.  Christ  is  able  and 
willing  to  uphold  and  support  us,  if  we  call  on  him." 

Laura  was  silent  for  a  moment.     "It  seems  to  me,"  she 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  95 

said,  at  length,  "that  we  get  that  strength  very  much  in 
the  same  way  that  the  prophets  and  apostles  of  old 
received  their  inspiration  ;  that  is,  through  a  certain  har- 
mony of  the  physical  and  spiritual  forces.  When  that 
harmony  is  disturbed,  we  are  left  in  darkness;  when  it 
prevails,  we  have  the  open  vision." 

"•The  Bible  makes  no  such  limitations  of  God's  power. 
It  tells  us  all  things  are  possible  with  Him." 

"  Yet  experience  proves  that  He  works  by  law ;  and 
that  seems  to  me  to  be  the  law  in  this  case.  I  know  that 
my  Heavenly  Father  still  lives  and  still  loves  me.  I  trust 
Him  still,  and  at  times  I  gain  sweet  assurance  of  His 
presence  and  blessing ;  but,  on  the  whole,  I  am  in  a  low, 
doubtful,  desponding  frame  of  mind,  which,  it  seems  to 
me,  is  more  caused  by  material  than  spiritual  conditions." 

"Let  us  investigate  that  matter  a  little.  When  you 
lost  your  little  boy,  what  was  the  state  of  your  mind  con- 
cerning that  dispensation  of  God's  providence?" 

"  I  felt,  at  first,  as  I  suppose  most  mothers  do,  under 
similar  circumstances :  so  heart-broken,  so  crazed  with 
grief,  that  I  hardly  knew  where  to  look  for  help ;  hardly 
believed  that  the  universe  could  hold  relief  for  pain  so 
poignant.  Afterwards,  as  I  got  calmer,  I  felt  that  mine 
was  not  an  isolated  case,  and  that  I  must  submit  humbly 
and  resignedly  to  the  will  of  my  Father  in  heaven.  It 
was  very  hard  to  do,  but  God  is  higher  than  I,  in  love,  as 
in  wisdom.  I  know  and  feel  it." 

"  I  must  think,  cousin  Laura,  that  there  is  still  some 
withholding  on  your  part,  or  the  blessing  would  come. 
God's  promises  are  never  made  in  vain." 

"  Mr.  Linscott,  that  blessing  has  come,  in  such  measure 
as  I  cannot  express.  In  that  respect  my  doubt,  and  my 
weakness,  and  my  darkness,  have  not  been  in  vain ;  for 
upon  them  my  Father  has  drawn,  as  in  strong  relief,  the 
lines  of  His  wise  and  tender  purposes.  I  cannot  tell  you, 


96  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

I  cannot  tell  any  person,  the  visions  of  heavenly  wisdom  I 
have  had  at  times.  I  know,  as  I  never  did  before,  that 
my  Father  lives ;  that  He  loves  me,  and  that,  in  His  own 
good  time  and  way,  He  will  bring  me  out  of  my  present 
darkness ;  and  that,  for  this  season  of  sorrow,  He  will  give 
me,  nay,  is  giving  me,  compensations  of  priceless  value. 
My  soul  is  stronger  to-day,  to  love,  to  sorrow,  to  pity,  to 
sympathize,  than  it  ever  was  before.  I  see  more  clearly 
the  reasons  of  God's  dealing  with  me.  I  can  look  farther 
into  heavenly  mysteries ;  I  can  fathom  more  deeply  heavenly 
purposes.  Yet,  while  spiritually  I  have  this  solemn  and 
serene  trust,  physically  I  pine,  I  languish,  I  daily  die. 
Therefore  I  am  not  happy;  therefore  I  cry  out,  with  Job, 
'  Why  is  light  given  to  a  man,  from  whom  the  way  is  hid  ?'  " 

"  Mr.  Linscott  was  silent.  "  God  is  dealing  with  you, 
sister,  after  a  fashion  of  His  own,"  he  said,  at  length;  "and 
when  God  speaks,  it  becomes  us  to  lay  our  hands  upon 
our  mouths,  and  our  mouths  in  the  dust." 

He  was  obliged  to  report  to  Mr.  Darrell  that  cousin 
Laura's  spiritual  state  seemed  hopeful.  God  was  dealing 
mysteriously  with  her,  but  there  was  good  evidence  that 
He  had  not  forsaken  her.  "We  must  trust  to  time,"  he 
said.  "  I  have  often  found  before  now,  that  the  ways  of 
God  with  women  were  seemingly  deeper  than  with  men  — 
probably  because  of  their  weaker  natures." 

Ralph  Darrell  knew  enough  of  his  wife  to  feel  certain 
that  her  nature,  whatever  else  it  might  be,  was  no  weaker 
than  his,  than  Mr.  Linscott's,  than  that  of  any  average 
man  he  knew.  Therefore,  he  said  to  himself: 

"  It's  just  because  they  are  so  queer  and  willful.  Laura, 
at  least,  ought  to  have  more  good  sense ;  to  behave  like 
a  reasonable  woman." 

According  to  the  universal  showing  of  men,  women  are 
not  reasonable  beings,  but  creatures  of  feeling,  emotion, 
intuition.  This  when  they  ask  equality  with  man;  but 


40 

A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  97 

let  them  once  be  pushed  to  the  wall  in  any  of  the  thou- 
sand struggles  which  women  have  constantly  to  meet  as 
women,  and  if  they  show  any  signs  of  emotional  weak- 
ness, it  is  suddenly  remembered  against  them  that  they 
are,  or  ought  to  be,  reasonable  creatures.  But  Ralph 
Darrell  was  not  so  cruel  as  some  men.  He  worked  him- 
lelf  into  a  generous  mood  toward  his  wife,  and  magnan- 
imously forgave  her. 


98  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


X. 

AN    OLD    MAN'S   DREAM. 

Three  months  in  the  quiet  air  of  Wyndham  had  done 
much  for  Rebecca.  There  is  scarcely  any  trouble  so 
deep,  any  state  of  the  mental  and  spiritual  forces  so 
disorganized,  that  steady,  genial  employment,  correct 
habits  of  living,  and  the  quiet,  loving  influences  of  nature, 
will  not  do  much  to  ameliorate  it.  If  there  be  added  to 
these  a  reverent  and  childlike  trust  in  God  our  Father, 
and  a  constant  recognition  of  His  love,  as  manifested  in 
His  Providence,  trouble  becomes,  if  not  powerless,  then 
the  minister  of  high  and  holy  things,  for  which  no  price 
that  human  beings  can  pay  is  too  exorbitant. 

Gradually,  under  these  combined  influences,  light  was 
coming  back  to  Rebecca's  eye,  color  to .  her  cheek, 
elasticity  to  her  step,  and  though  she  still  passed  weary 
hours  of  retrospection,  still,  as  she  went  about  her  daily 
tasks,  stifled  many  secret  heart-throes,  her  life,  on  the 
whole,  caught  many  hues  of  brightness,  and  the  blessings 
she  was  constantly  bestowing  upon  others  returned  in  even 
measure  to  herself. 

Mrs.  Darrell's  cook  was  a  middle  aged  woman,  who 
had  been  for  years  in  the  service  of  the  Gladstone  family. 
When  the  great  house  was  shut  up,  Nancy  felt  almost  as 
much  disinherited  as  Abraham  himself.  But  Mrs.  Darrell, 
too  well  pleased  to  obtain  the  services  of  a  faithful  and 
capable  housekeeper,  not  to  be  willing  to  make  a  proper 
return  for  them,  had  offered  Nancy  a  home  in  her  house, 
and  here  she  had  ever  since  remained. 

Nancy  was  one  of  that  almost  extinct  race,  a  well- 
trained  American  domestic.  She  had  been  the  daughter 


A  WOMAN  S    SECRET.  09 

of  a  small  farmer,  whose  children,  happening  to  be  mostly 
girls  instead  of  boys,  had  been  obliged  to  earn  their  own 
living.  In  the  days  when  factories  had  not  yet  become 
synonyms  of  Paradise,  domestic  service  was  the  principal 
refuge  of  girls  so  situated,  and  it  was  then  possible  to 
find  the  reliable  character  and  steady  good  sense  for 
which  New  Englanders  are  noted,  in  the  young  woman 
who  offered  herself  as  domestic  help.  Commencing  thus, 
and  failing,  for  some  reason  best  known  to  herself,  of 
marriage,  Nancy  was  still  pursuing  her  avocation,  and 
had  won  for  herself  the  respect  of  her  superiors,  and  a 
cei*tain  position,  half-way  between  that  of  an  ordinary 
servant  and  the  wife  of  a  mechanic  or  small  tradesman. 
With  such  a  person,  it  was  not  difficult  for  Rebecca  to 
associate  and  still  maintain  her  self-respect.  Indeed, 
Nancy  was  too  thoroughly  respectful  in  her  nature  not  at 
once  to  accord  to  the  nursery  maid  the  superior  honor 
which  she  felt  to  be  her  due.  Therefore,  Rebecca's 
position  in  the  family,  though  it  entailed  its  constant  and 
somewhat  wearing  duties,  and  was,  after  all,  essentially 
the  place  of  a  servant,  had  still  such  advantages  of  com- 
fort and  independence  as  she  could  scarcely  have  found 
elsewhere. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Darrell  were  no  more  generous  than 
thousands  of  employers  would  be  if  they  could  gain  such 
trusty,  intelligent  service  as  Rebecca  rendered,  yet  they 
did  thoroughly  appreciate  the  blessing  they  enjoyed,  and 
daily  acknowledged  it. 

"  Laura,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  as  he  came  into  the  break- 
fast room  one  morning,  and  noticed  how  fresh  and  neat 
everything  looked ;  how  the  window  curtains  were 
adjusted  to  give  just  the  most  agreeable  light,  and  the 
silver  on  the  sideboard  was  arranged  in  just  the  most 
tasteful  way,  and  a  glass  of  fresh  flowers  on  the  side-table 
brightened  and  cheered  the  room  as  only  flowers  can ; 


100  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  Laura,  what  a  treasure  that  new  girl  of  your's  is.  Why, 
she  really  carries  us  back  to  the  days  when  you  did  your 
own  housekeeping,  and  made  the  presence  of  a  refined 
woman  felt  everywhere.  Now  that  you've  got  a  good 
girl,  do  keep  her.  Wages  are  no  sort  of  object." 

"Rebecca  is  a  refined  woman,"  said  Mrs.  Darrell. 
"  That  she  ever  came  to  seek  service  is  a  great  wonder  in 
this  country.  She  values  self-respect  and  a  few  privileges 
more  than  wages. 

"Very  well,  then,  it  is  better  to  put  one's  self  out  a 
little  to  please  her,  than  let  her  go.  Make  her  position 
pleasant,  as  well  as  her  wages  satisfactory,  for  we  really 
can't  afford  to  lose  her." 

It  fell  out,  therefore,  that  the  work  was  so  arranged 
that  Rebecca  found  some  spare  time  in  every  week  for 
reading,  or  sewing,  or  walking,  or  even  visiting.  Of  the 
last  she  had  little  to  do,  beyond  an  occasional  hour  with 
Mrs.  Moss,  or,  rarely,  a  shorter  visit  to  Miss  Joanna's 
nursery.  For  Miss  Joanna,  finding  how  apt  Rebecca  was 
with  children,  had  invited,  and  even  urged  her  to  drop  in 
now  and  then  upon  her  little  charge,  and  Rebecca,  at  first, 
with  a  painful  distrust  of  herself,  but  with  increasing 
confidence  as  the  weeks  passed,  occasionally  accepted  the 
invitation. 

The  baby's  clothes,  when  she  had  come  to  Wyndham, 
had  all  been  marked  with  a  C.  Wherefore,  the  doctor, 
who  had  been  requested  by  his  sister  to  name  the  child, 
called  her  Catherine.  Miss  Joanna  was  greatly  pleased, 
but  very  soon  shortened  the  stately  baptismal  to  Kitty. 
Not  so  the  doctor,  who  had  no  liking  for  the  fashion  of 
abreviations,  and  invariably  spoke  of  the  child  by  her  full 
name. 

But  Kitty  was,  nevertheless,  a  great  pet  with  him,  as 
with  the  rest  of  the  family,  and  was  as  tenderly  watched 
over  as  a  child  could  be. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  101 

One  bright  June  afternoon,  Rebecca  set  out  to  do  some 
errands  at  the  village  store,  and  call  on  Mrs.  Moss.  Going 
past  the  plain,  old-fashioned  house,  where  the  doctor  and 
his  sister  resided,  she  espied  Miss  Joanna  and  little  Kitty 
on  the  lawn,  the  latter  lying  in  her  buggy,  while  Miss 
Joanna  sat  beside  her  knitting  an  afghan.  Joanna  Gaines 
was  a  woman  deserving  of  description. 

She  was  taller  than  her  sister,  thinner  and  more  angular. 
Her  features  were  strongly  cast,  and,  at  first  view,  she 
was  always  pronounced  incomparably  less  beautiful  than 
Laura.  But  her  complexion,  though  pale,  was  very  fine, 
and  the  faint  color  that  sometimes  stained  her  cheek,  was 
of  that  exquisite  rose,  seen  only  with  the  finest  organiza- 
tions, and  with  them  but  on  rare  occasions.  Her  eyes, 
too,  had  a  soft,  peculiar  light,  not  brilliant,  or  in  the  least 
alluring,  unless  one  observed  closely  its  coy  coming  and 
going,  and  then  it  was  most  captivating.  A  certain  dainty 
tenderness  of  manner,  tempered  by  a  shy  reserve,  was,  to 
those  who  knew  her  best,  an  indescribable  charm ;  while 
the  coarser  multitude  held  what  of  her  they  could  not 
understand  in  reverent  admiration.  With  so  much  refined 
feeling,  she  joined  the  staunch  good  sense  of  her  family; 
so  that,  though  circumstances  had  confirmed  her  natural 
leaning  to  habits  of  seclusion,  she  had  never  grown  morbid 
or  melancholy;  and  now  that  a  new  and  most  deep  and 
pure  interest  was  given  her  in  life,  she  seemed  always  to 
have  been  the  most  gracefully  genial  and  delicately  fasci- 
nating person  you  had  ever  known. 

Some  strong  instinct  arrested  Rebecca's  feet,  as  she 
looked  up  at  the  pretty  picture  of  the  baby-carriage  stand- 
ing in  the  shadow  of  a  great  elm,  dappled  all  over  with 
flickering  gloom  and  brightness,  and  the  gentle  woman 
sitting  beside  it,  pausing  now  and  then  at  her  work,  to 
coo  a  greeting  to  the  rosy  child. 

She  stood  for  a  moment  with  her  hand  upon  her  heart, 


102  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  shadow  of  a  great  longing  settling  upon  her  features. 
Presently  Miss  Joanna  saw  her,  and  called: 

"Come  in,  Reba,  and  see  how  pretty  Kitty  looks,  in  her 
short  dresses." 

Rebecca  cleared  her  face  of  that  sad  look,  and  pressing 
back  the  tears  that  were  so  ready  to  flow,  walked  up  the 
graveled  path,  and  stooping,  kissed  the  pretty  baby.  Five 
minutes  of  nursery  chat  followed,  and  then  the  doctor 
appeared  at  the  doorway  of  the  house. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Rebecca,"  he  said,  in  his  grave  way, 
ignoring  now,  as  always,  the  abbreviation  of  her  name, 
which  Maude  Darrell  had  made  a  law  to  every  one  but  her 
uncle. 

Rebecca  returned  the  salutation,  and  added  a  remark 
about  the  baby. 

"  Yes,  Catherine  thrives  very  well.  Better,  I  think, 
than  she  would  have  done  in  the  city  alms-house.  Joanna — 
looks — motherly.  I  think  she  is  getting  to  look  very 
motherly." 

Rebecca  smiled,  and  the  faint  color  trickled  up  into 
Joanna'?  white  cheek. 

"  I  think,"  said  the  doctor,  who  loved  to  have  the  con- 
versation mostly  to  himself;  "I  think  a  woman  should 
always  look  motherly  if  she  can.  I  don't  know  what 
better  a  woman  can  be  than  a  mother,  and  if  she  hasn't 
uny  children  of  her  own,  why,  let  her  be  a  mother  to  some- 
body's else  children.  Joanna  is  trying  it.  I  think — she 
—  likes— it." 

''Yes,"  said  Joanna,  demurely,  "  I  used  to  have  thoughts 
of  writing  poetry,  or  going  on  a  mission,  or  something  of 
that  sort.  I've  given  all  that  up  now." 

"Humph!"  said  the  doctor;  "all  things  have  their 
uses.  Literary  women  have  their  uses.  They  make  work 
for  the  doctors,  for  one  thing.  They  tear  their  nervous 
systems  —  all  —  to  —  pieces.  Never  knew  one  that  was 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  ^       103 

healthy,  in  my  life.  They  make  their  husbands  —  if  they 
have  any  —  miserable;  and  it's  ten  to  one  if  they  earn  — 
enough  —  to  —  pay —  their — washerwoman.  They'd  better 
be  tending  babies." 

"  You  are  not  thinking  of  Mrs.  Stowe  and  Mrs.  Browning 
now,"  said  Joanna,  quietly 

"If  women  will  write  good  books,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I've 
no  objections.  A  good  workman  is  never  to  be  despised. 
A  poet  is  as  likely  to  be  a  woman  as  a  man,  for  all  I  know. 
If  the  poet  soul  gets  into  the  woman's  brain,  why,  it's  like 
a  flower,  it  must  blossom.  Who  shall  hinder?  But,  after 
all,  it  seems  to  me  that  women  don't  see  clearly,  when 
they  rank  the  poet  before  the  mother,  in  use  or  in  honor. 
It  is  with  that  as  with  everything  else.  They  are  so  many 
dabsters  at  the  trade." 

"Mrs.  Stowe  and  Mrs.  Browning  are  both  mothers," 
said  Rebecca,  "  and  the  latter,  at  least,  has  written :  '  No 
perfect  artist  ever  was  developed  from  an  imperfect 
woman.'  And  the  writings  of  the  other  are  full  of  inspir- 
ations which  could  never  have  come  to  any  other  soul 
than  a  mother's." 

"And  they  have  been,  so  far  as  we  know,  happy  wives 
and  happy  mothers,"  said  Joanna.  "  The  proverbial  misery 
of  literary  marriages  doesnotseem  to  attend  them." 

"  I  think,"  said  Rebecca,  "  the  great  trouble  with  literary 
women,  in  regard  to  marriage,  has  been,  that  they  have  not 
been  careful  to  observe  the  order  of  nature,  in  regard  to 
their  gifts,  but  have  ranked  those  of  the  intellect  over 
purely  feminine  endowments.  Nature  will  not  be  ignored. 
Women  must  be  content  to  be  women  first — after  that, 
scribes." 

While  she  was  speaking,  the  doctor  was  looking  at  her 
from  under  his  bushy  eyebrows,  with  a  steady,  searching 
glance.  As  she  concluded,  he  drew  on  his  driving  gloves, 
as  if  about  ready  to  take  leave  of  the  group." 


104  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  Rebecca,"  he  said,  eyeing  her  walking-shoes,  "  were 
you  going  down  town  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  answered,  "to  the  store,  and  to  Mrs. 
Moss'." 

The  doctor  whistled,  and  looked  off  at  the  sky,  as  if 
prospecting  the  weather,  while  the  two  women  concluded 
their  chat.  Then  he  asked,  with  a  certain  shy  gravity, 
which  yet  overlaid  a  tender  meaning : 

"  I  am  going  that  way.     Will  you  ride  with  me  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,"  she  replied ;  "  I  shall  enjoy  a  drive 
exceedingly. 

As  they  walked,  side  by  side,  down  the  graveled  path, 
that  same  shy  courtesy  in  the  doctor,  that  nameless  some- 
thing which  reminded  her  of  Joanna's  tender  fascinations, 
flashed  a  vision  across  Rebecca's  mind,  of  what  it  might 
be  to  her  to  live  in  this  house ;  to  be  a  sharer  in  its  joys 
and  its  anxieties ;  to  lean  with  true  respect  and  fervent 
gratitude  upon  this  strong,  well-tried  arm.  It  would 
not  be  the  paradise  of  a  love-lorn  maiden's  dream ;  but 
might  it  not  be  something  yet  deeper,  more  restful,  more 
satisfying.  The  vision  lasted  but  a  moment;  it  faded 
before  it  was  scarcely  formed.  But  she  sighed,  as  women 
will  sigh  whose  feet  are  called  to  tread  in  lonely  paths. 

Moses  Moss'  cottage  stood  just  beyond  the  town,  and 
the  doctor  chose  a  by-road  to  it,  that  day;  a  little  round- 
about, but  lying  through  the  woods,  whose  dim  and 
solemn  depths  were  overflowed,  just  now,  by  pink  seas  of 
blossoming  laurel. 

"  I  always  like  to  ride  through  the  woods  when  the  laurels 
are  in  blossom,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  don't  mind  flowers 
much,  generally.  I'm  not  at  all  sentimental,  but  there  is 
something  in  the  freshness  and  abundance  of  the  laurels 
which  reminds  me  of  my  youth.  Youth  is  a  man's  spring- 
time; and,  if  there  is  anything  of  the  man  about  him,  he 
is  apt,  then,  to  be  about  as  full  of  promise  and  anticipation 


A  WOMAN'S    SECRET.  105 

as  these  laurels  are.  The  laurel  blossoms  fade  away,  like 
the  promise  of  most  men's  lives,  into  something  very  tame 
and  commonplace.  All  the  same,  I  like  to  see  them  in 
in  their  prime." 

"Yes,"  said  Rebecca,  "and  the  promise  of  yonr  life,  I 
am  sure,  has  been  well  redeemed." 

"  In  a  measure,  perhaps.  But  the  heart  knoweth  its  own 
bitterness.  I  had  a  good  many  dreams  in  my  youth,  which 
have  never  been  fulfilled.  I  don't  complain.  I  don't 
complain.  Maybe  some  other  lives  have  been  the  richer 
for  the  poverty  of  mine.  If  they  have,  it  is  all  right,  and 
I  don't  complain.  But  a  man  of  my  years,  with  so  many 
old  friends  dropping  off  and  no  new  ties  forming,  has  his 
times  of  feeling  the  need  of  companionship."  There  was 
a  little  pause,  during  which  the  doctor  whistled  pensively. 
"I  suppose,  Rebecca,"  he  said,  "I  seem  very  old  to  you?" 

He  looked  around  at  her  shyly,  with  an  interest  in  her 
answer  which  he  did  not  attempt  to  conceal. 

"Some  lives,"  she  said,  "  are  so  full  of  the  best  forces, 
energy,  skill,  and  a  broad,  open  charity,  that,  instead  of 
growing  old,  they  seem  only  to  ripen  with  years.  So, 
though  I  know  that  you  are  past  the  meridian  of  your  life, 
it  never  seems  to  me  that  you  are  old,  but  only  mature." 

The  answer  pleased  the  doctor;  and  yet  it  came  so 
frankly,  with  no  timid,  girlish  blush,  no  flutter  of  pleased 
embarrassment  at  being  asked,  that  he  dared  not  presume 
upon  it.  More  and  more  this  woman  puzzled  and  inter- 
ested him.  There  was  a  purity  about  her  like  that  which 
we  associate  with  children ;  yet,  by  that  subtile  test  of 
magnetism  which  we  all  possess  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  he  knew  that  her  experiences  had  been  those  of  a 
mature  woman.  At  the  same  time,  she  was  not  old  — 
twenty-five  at  the  farthest,  the  doctor  thought.  She  was 
naturally  of  a  fond,  loving,  trusting  nature,  yet  her  dis- 
cretion, her  capacity  to  carry  herself  with  perfect  poise 


106  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

and  self-possession  through  the  most  embarrassing  cir- 
cumstances,  were  wonderful  for  anything  but  a  thoroughly 
tried  and  mature  woman; 

There  was  sbme  further  chat  between  them,  mostly  of 
a  quiet  j  intimate  nature,  which  made  Rebecca  feel  that 
bhe  had  been  taken  nearer  to  the  doctor's  affectional  life 
than  strangers  were  usually  permitted  to  go,  and  that 
there  was  an  unsuspected  fountain  of  warmth  and  fullness 
somewhere  in  his  nature,  and  then  they  reached  Mrs. 
Moss'  door,  and  parted. 

The  doctor  drove  away  in  a  happy  \ein,  which  made 
the  sunshine  seem  more  golden,  and  tinted  the  landscape 
to  his  eyes  with  softer  hues. 

There  is  scarcely  anything,  I  think,  more  touching  than 
an  old  man's  dream  of  love.  It  lacks  entirely  the  brilliant 
hues  and  strong  groupings  of  thirty  years  before ;  but, 
like  the  landscape  of  the  Indian  summer,  it  has  a  pure 
and  peaceful  charm  that  is  all  its  own.  As  the  old  chaise 
rattled  over  the  flinty  roads  that  afternoon,  the  doctor 
saw  no  waving  fields  of  corn  on  either  side  of  him  — 
heard  no  piping  thrush  in  the  alder  thickets  by  the  way. 
Me  was  living  in  a  different  world.  A  young  man  dreams 
of  being  beloved ;  an  old  man  dreams  of  loving.  And  so 
the  doctor  dreamed  of  making  more  bright  and  beautiful 
his  ancient  home,  that  a  young  life  might  find  more  fitting 
welcome  there;  of  a  thousand  tender  little  devices  for 
banishing  the  grief  and  sadness  from  that  gentle  heart, 
and  basked  with  very  Epicurean  delight  in  the  thought  of 
winning  an  untroubled  glow  of  sunshine  to  settle  in  those 
deep,  brown  eyes,  and  ray  out  each  day  its  joy  and 
gratitude  for  him. 

Just  then  the  old  gray  stumbled,  and  recalled  by  this 
incident  to  the  outer  world,  he  noticed  that  he  was  passing 
the  deserted  Gladstone  mansion.  The  fact  changed  the 
current  of  the  doctor's  meditations.  "  H'm  !  h'm  !  "  he 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  107 

said;  "I  must  see  Marston  when  I  go  to  New  York.  If 
that  man  ever  knew  Rebecca,  it  is  ten  to  one  I  can  find 
out  by  him.  I  must  attend  to  that  matter.  The  girl 
herself  is  all  right — nothing  bad  about  her;  but  there  is 
something  wrong  about  her  circumstances.  I  must  find 
out  what  it  is.  At  my  time  of  life  it  won't  do  to  make  a 
fool  of  myself.  I  can't  go  to  New  York  just  yet;  but  I 
must  attend  to  it  when  I  do  go." 

Again  and  again  the  doctor  had  thought  this  affair  over. 
At  first,  as  a  mere  matter  of  speculation ;  afterwards,  with 
a  nearer  interest.  If  there  was  one  thing  which  the 
doctor  was  more  sensitive  about  than  all  others,  it  was 
his  good  name.  The  family  record  was  an  untarnished 
one.  For  fifty  years  he  himself  had  kept  it  without  stain  ; 
he  had  even,  he  hoped,  added  something  to  its  original 
luster.  At  his  age  he  might  safely  predict  that  it  would 
never  be  disgraced  by  his  sins;  but  many  a  man  has 
overturned  the  goodly  structiire  of  a  lifetime  by  a  single 
act  of  weakness  or  folly  committed  when  his  hair  had 
grown  white. 

Dr.  Gaines  had  wonderful  good  sense.  He  meant  to  be 
very  careful  that  no  momentary  weakness  should  betray 
him  into  an  act  which  he  might  repent  vainly  through 
long,  repining  years. 


108  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XL 

THE    MAKING    OF    MEN. 

The  advent  of  Rebecca  in  Mrs.  Moss'  kitchen  was 
always  a  hilarious  event.  Seen  from  afar,  her  approach 
gave  rise  to  an  indiscriminate  process  of  brushing,  and 
dusting,  and  putting  to  rights.  Once  seated  and  divested 
of  her  outer  garments,  a  vigorous  and  combined  assault 
of  all  the  small  fry  was  made,  until  she  was  forced  to  tell 
them  a  story,  or  dress  a  rag  baby,  or,  at  the  very  least,-  to 
tie  paper  shoes  on  "Diany,"  and  set  that  feline  worthy 
dancing  for  their  amusement.  This  last  was  a  feat  that 
no  one  could  accomplish  but  Rebecca  ;  for  no  one  else 
had  that  rare  talent  which  is  a  combination  of  force  and 
flattery,  and  which  alone  is  equal  to  the  disposition  of 
cats.  Some  one  or  all  of  these  propitiations  being 
rendered,  the  children  were  usually  dispersed  into  the 
yard  with  a  piece  of  gingerbread  by  way  of  bribe,  and 
then  ensued  a  long  confidential  talk  between  Rebecca  and 
Mrs.  Moss. 

On  this  particular  day,  Rebecca  had  come  provided 
with  sundry  small  bits  of  bright  colored  cloth  and  tiny 
tinsel  buttons,  by  means  of  which  she  intended  to  put 
Pamela  into  gorgeous  array.  Behold  her,  therefore,  seated 
in  the  low,  straight-backed,  chintz  covered  rocking  chair, 
Diana  curled  comfortably  in  her  lap  and  purring  in  long 
meter,  and  the  scissors  and  needle  in  her  hand,  while  she 
fashioned  a  dainty  waist  of  red  merino,  for  the  rag  effigy 
known  as  Pamela. 

"Miss  Rebecca,"  asked  Belinda,  the  five  year  old,  con- 
fidentially, "don't  you  think  Diana  is  a  beautiful  cat." 

"Very,"  said  Rebecca,  assuringly,  "and  she  purrs  the 
loudest  of  any  cat  I  ever  saw." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  109 

"I  don't  care,"  said  Jane,  incipient  bellehood  rearing  its 
ambitious  crest  in  her  soul,  "Fanny  Ellery  has  got  a 
splendid  tabby,  and  you  know  yourself,  Miss  Rebecca, 
Maude  Darrell  has  got  a  new  Maltese,  with  double  paws. 
Diana  is  real  old  fashioned,  and  I  think  we  ought  to  have 
a  new  cat." 

Then  followed  a  long  confidential  talk  with  .Rebecca 
concerning  the  possibilities  of  inducing  Maude  to  part  with 
one  of  the  Maltese  cat's  (supposititious)  kittens,  which 
ended  in  Rebecca  promising,  in  case  the  supposed  contin- 
gency arose,  to  use  her  best  endeavors  to  procure  one. 
For  which  reason  Jane  felt  better  able  to  hold  up  her 
head  for  several  days  thereafter. 

In  the  midst  of  this  discussion,  Theodore  burst  into  the 
room,  from  the  potato  field,  where  he  had  been  hoeing. 

His  greeting  was  a  noisy  but  hearty  one.  The  next 
moment' he  caught  sight  of  Rebecca's  work. 

"I  say,  old  maid,  what  are  you  making  there?"  he 
exclaimed.  "  Jackets  for  the  little  tanagers  down  in  the 
alders,  I  swear;  I'll  go  fetch  in  the  young  devils,  to  try 
on  their  toggery;"  and  with  that  he  was  oif  like  a  shot  to 
the  brook,  and  in  spite  of  exclamations  and  protestations 
he  laid  the  pretty  round  nest,  with  its  still  unfeathered 
innocents,  into  Rebecca's  lap. 

Mrs.  Moss  was  greatly  distressed. 

"Theodore!"  she  exclaimed,  "how  can  you?  "What 
does  make  you  such  a  cruel,  hard-hearted  boy?" 

"  Cruel !  that's  a  good  joke.  Why,  I  brought  them  in 
for  Diany's  supper.  Here,  old  lady,  they're  young  and 
tender.  Let's  hear  you  crack  their  bones."  And  he  held 
the  piping  younglings  over  Diana's  nose;  and  only  that 
Rebecca  asserted  her  womanly  dignity,  and  gently  ordered 
boy  and  cat  and  birds  out  of  the  house,  the  sacrifice  would 
have  been  completed  before  their  eyes. 

Poor  Mrs.  Moss  sighed  deeply,  and  turned  the  whole 


110  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

brood  out  of  doors,  with  a  command  for  them  not  to  set 
their  feet  into  the  house  for  the  next  hour. 

"  Miss  Rebecca,"  she  said,  when  quiet  reigned,  "  I  do 
wish  I  knew  what  to  do  with  that  boy.  He  is  the  greatest 
trial  of  my  life.  'Taint  two  weeks  ago  that  his  father 
gave  him  a  terrible  thrashing,  and  sent  him  to  bed  without 
his  supper.  The  next  mornin'  he  wasn't  to  be  found,  and 
he  staid  away  two  nights.  I  declare,  I  thought  I  should 
go  crazy ;  but  he  came  back  at  last,  and  what  do  you 
suppose  he  said?  He  came  in  just  at  the  gray  of  dusk, 
when  he  knew  his  father'd  be  out  of  the  house,  and  the 
children,  too ;  and  he  came  along  kind  o'  quiet  by  my 
side,  and  he  says,  '  good  evenin',  mother.' 

"  '  Why,  Theodore,'  says  I,  half  scar't  to  death,  '  where 
have  you  been  ? ' 

" '  Where  I  never' d  a'  come  back  from,  mother,'  says 
he,  '  if  't  hadn't  been  for  you.  Did  you  lie  awake  last 
night  and  night  before  thinking  about  me?' 

"  Says  I,  '  Theodore,  I  never  slept  a  blessed  wink  neither 
night.' 

Says  he,  '  I  knew  it,  mother,  and  I  couldn't  sleep, 
a-thinkin'  of  it.  But  father,  he  didn't  lie  awake  none.  Oh, 
you  needn't  tell  me,  I  know.' 

'"Yes  he  did,"  says  I;  'Theodore,  yes  he  did.  Your 
father  was  troubled,  too  ;  but  he  thought  he  did  his  duty, 
when  he  whipped  you;  and,  Theodore,  I  don't  know  but 
he  did.' 

"'Mother,'  says  he,  'I  often  need  whippin';  I  s'pose  I 
do  ;  I  know  I  often  do  wrong,  and  if  you'd  whip  me,  I 
wouldn't  say  a  word,  if  it  was  twice  as  hard ;  but  I  never 
will  let  him  whip  me  again,  as  long  as  I  live.  He  can't  do 
it  now,  unless  I  choose,  for  I'm  as  strong  as  he  is,  any 
day,  and  he  never  shall  again.  But,  when  I'm  wicked, 
you  just  lay  your  little  finger  on  me,  and  I'll  stop.' 

"  But,  la  !  the  boy  can't  always  stop.     He  wa'n't  made 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  Ill 

so.'  He  was  born  in  just  a  year  after  I  was  married,  and 
in  that  time  I'd  had  a  good,  deal  to  contend  with.  Ye 
see,  my  father  was  a  farmer,  and  well  enough  off,  but  he 
had  a  good  many  children,  and  so  of  course  the  most  any 
of  us  ever  got  was  our  bringing  up.  Still,  we  had  a  good 
bringin'  up,  and  a  better  education  than  was  common  in 
them  times,  especially  for  girls.  I  was  just  about  nineteen 
Avhen  Moses  came  a-courtin'  me.  I  knew  he  was  poor ; 
but,  then,  he  was  a  good,  stout  young  man,  and  had  red 
cheeks  and  curly  hair,  and  I  didn't  know  no  harm  of  him. 
My  father  and  brothers  were  all  steady,  industrious  folks, 
and  made  a  good  living,  and  I  didn't  sort  o'  realize  but 
what  all  men  was  just  so.  So  I  married  Moses.  Well, 
we  hadn't  been  married  a  month  before  I  found  out  he 
would  drink.  Then,  all  along,  during  that  year,  it  came 
out  that  he  wa'n't  no  great  worker,  and  if  we  had  children 
I'd  got  to  do  the  biggest  part  of  bringin'  'em  up.  Xow, 
it  wa'n't  that  I  didn't  want  to  work,  for  I  was  al \vays  will- 
ing that  way,  but  it  was  the  being  disappointed  in  him,  that 
cut  me.  Then  a  good  many  girls,  that  I'd  been  brought 
up  right  alongside  of,  had  done  a  sight  better'n  I  had,  and 
they  kind  o'  set  themselves  up  over  me.  I'd  always  had 
a  proud  spirit,  and  carried  my  head  pretty  high,  and  they 
was  mighty  glad  to  get  a  chance  to  crow  over  me  ;  and  the 
upshot  of  it  was,  that  all  that  summer,  before  Theodore 
was  born,  I  had  spells  of  feelin'  just  as  if  I  could  tear  things 
all  to  pieces.  I  guess  Moses  had  his  patience  pretty  well 
tried  with  me ;  but,  then,  he  is  patient,  and  don't  never 
scold  as  some  men  do,  even  when  he's  in  liquor.  He  ain't 
the  worst  man  there  is,  on  the  whole ;  and  I  think,'s  likely 
as  not,  is  just  the  right  man  for  me,  after  all.  But  you 
see,  looking  back  to  them  days,  I  know  just  exactly  what 
it  is  that  makes  Theodore  the  boy  he  is ;  and  I  can  kind  o' 
pity  him,  and  have  patience  with  him,  when  his  father 
can't  see  nothing  in  him  but  just-  the  very  Evil  One. 


112  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  It  ain't  no  wonder  to  me  that  men  don't  understand 
women.  They've  always  called  them  queer  and  inconsist- 
ent, and  always  will,  till  they  find  out  how  much  there  is 
in  a  woman's  life  that  they  don't  know,  and  never  can.  A 
woman  knows  what's  in  a  man  better  than  he  does  him- 
self, for  she's  naturally  the  mother  of  men.  She  knows 
better  than  anybody  else  but  the  Great  Maker,  what  goes 
to  the  making  of  a  man ;  but  a  woman  carries  a  secret  with 
her  from  the  day  she  is  a  woman,  to  the  day  she  dies, 
which  no  man  can  wholly  understand.  So,  why  shouldn't 
men  find  'em  queer  ?  But  it  is  great  presumption  for  them 
to  set  themselves  up  over  women  on  that  account,  for  it's 
just  like  boasting  of  their  ignorance." 

"But,  you  know  that  men  assert  that  the  badge  of 
womanhood  is  the  badge  of  shame  and  weakness." 

"  Well,  that's  more  than  they  can  prove.  A  woman  isn't 
so  strong  to  dig  potatoes  as  a  man ;  but  she's  a  great  deal 
stronger  to  bear  suffering,  to  rule  her  own  spirit,  and  so  to 
rule  her  family.  A  great  deal  stronger  in  faith,  and  hope, 
and  courage,  and  love ;  and  which  is  the  better  kind  of 
strength,  I'd  like  to  know.  As  for  the  shame  of  it,  when 
you'll  show  me  a  man  who  is  ashamed  of  having  had  a 
good  mother,  then  I'll  own  that  his  mother  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  having  borne  him.  Otherwise,  I  do  say  there 
ain't  anybody  in  this  world  that  can  take  higher  rank  than 
a  good  mother.  And  if  she's  set  apart  by  nature  to  that 
office,  purified  and  refined  from  month  to  month,  and  year 
by  year,  made  less  strong  that  she  may  be  less  gross,  is 
that  any  disgrace  to  her?  I  tell  you,  it's  just  because 
women  don't  think  enough  of  these  things  for  themselves, 
but  take  the  low  estimate  men  form  of  them  for  gospel, 
and  then  live  down  to  it,  that  woman's  calling  is  no  more 
honored  in  the  world.  And  so  women,  when  they  get 
ambitious,  try  to  be  men,  or  as  near  to  it  as  they  can 
come,  never  thinking  that  a  noble  womanhood  is  some- 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  113 

thing  with  a  great  deal  more  in  it  than  any  manhood? 
That's  what  makes  me  so  out  of  patience  with  these 
Woman's  Rights  folks." 

"  Mrs.  Moss,  why  donotwomen  who  know  and  feel  these 
things,  mothers  who  through  years  of  suffering  and  expe- 
rience have  learned  them  to  be  facts,  why  don't  they  say 
more  about  them  ?  " 

"Well,  it  is  the  nature  of  a  woman  to  hide  things.  I 
wouldn't  say  what  I've  said  to  you,  to  any  man,  and 
there's  plenty  more  like  me.  God  made  us  so,  and  I 
suppose  He  knew  what  He  was  about  when  He  did  it. 
It's  a  wommi's  secret,  and  one  which  never  has  been  fully 
told." 

"But  it  seems  to  me  that  it  ought  to  be  told  openly,  for 
the  very  good  of  men  themselves,  that  they  may  learn 
more  deeply  to  reverence  and  cherish  that  which  is  after 
all  the  highest  gift  bestowed  upon  the  race." 

"  I  siippose  sometime  it  will  be,  when  men  are  fit  to 
receive  it.  It  is  no  use  to  throw  pearls  before  swine,  you 
know.  But  I  tell  you  there's  many  a  woman  who  has  lived 
and  suffered  years  and  years,  having  her  children,  and 
bringing  them  up  with  little  help  from  her  husband,  doing 
the  work  of  two,  and  making  her  hair  gray  before  it's 
time,  who  never  could  have  lived,  if  in  some  silent,  dumb 
way,  she  hadn't  felt  all  these  things,  to  be  true.  It  is  God's 
gift  to  woman  to  see  when  man  is  blind.  4nd  if  he  don't 
choose  to  take  the  light  from  her,  he  plods  on  in  the  dark, 
while  she  goes  singing  in  the  day,  and  gets  called  crazy 
for  it>  too.  Why,  there's  plenty  of  men  who  don't  know 
any  more  about  the  real  lives  of  the  women  that  live  in 
their  houses,  than  they  know  about  Timbuctoo.  If  my 
husband  was  to  hear  me  talk  as  I'm  talking  now,  he'd 
think  I-was  stark  mad." 

"  Very  possibly,"  said  Rebecca,  "  for  I  own  myself  quite 
surprised  that  a  woman  who  has  always  had  so  much  work 
E2 


114  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

to  do  as  you  have,  should  have  found  so  much  time  to 
think,  or  should  have  gained  so  much  wisdom  by  think- 
ing." 

"I  tell  you,  Miss  Rebecca,  when  a  woman  is  sitting  up 
all  night  by  herself,  with  her  sick  child,  she  ain't  never 
alone.  I  don't  care  how  humble  her  home  is,  there's  visi- 
tors from  heaven  in  it.  They  comfort  and  they  soothe, 
and  they  teach  such  lessons  as  you  don't  find  nowhere's  else. 
You  may  talk  about  wise  men,  and  godly  men,  but  I  tell 
you  that  there's  poor,  distressed  mothers,  that  has  been 
nearer  to  heaven,  and  had  heaven's  wisdom  brought  nearer 
to  them,  than  any  man  ever  did.  But  to  come  back  to  my 
boy,  Theodore.  I'm  fully  convinced  that  he'll  come  out 
all  right,  if  only  his  father  don't  prove  to  be  the  ruin  of 
him.  He  tells  him  he'll  certainly  come  to  States'  prison, 
or  the  gallows,  and  whips  him,  and  scolds  him  beyond 
reason;  and  it  does  try  me  so,  sometimes,  that  it  seems  to 
me  I  shall  give  up  altogether.  But,  then,  if  a  mother  ever 
gave  up,  what  would  the  world  come  to  ?  He  don't  love 
to  go  to  school,  and  I'm  afraid  it  don't  do  him  much  good 
to  go,  and  he  hates  to  work  out  on  the  farm.  I  do  wish  I 
could  get  him  something  to  do  that  he  would  like,  for  then 
I  think  he  would  have  some  ambition,  and  begin  to  show 
out  the  good  that  I  really  think  there  is  in  him." 

"He  is  young  yet,"  said  Rebecca,  "and  we  must  have 
patience.  In  the  course  of  a  year  or  two,  I  hav'n't  a  doubt 
but  he  will  find  something  to  do.  It  is  a  hard  lime  for  you, 
just  now,  I  suppose,  because  he  is  so  large  that  it  costs 
something  to  keep  him,  and  his  father  naturally  thinks  he 
ought  to  be  turning  his  time  to  account.  He  must  be  made 
to  be  patient,  that  is,  if  that  miracle  can  be  wrought. 
Men  are  not  naturally  patient,  you  know." 

"  Yes  ;  and  you  see  his  father  is  bent  upon  making  a 
shoemaker  of  him,  and  that  he  never  will  be.  Didn't  I 
use  to  hate  the  sight  of  that  bench,  and  the  sound  of  the 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  115 

hammer,  and  the  very  smell  of  the  wax  and  the  leather, 
after  Jane  Meredith  called  me,  right  in  the  sewing  society, 
before  all  the  folks,  a  cobbler's  wife!  I  know  that  Theo- 
dore would  kill  himself  before  he'd  ever  be  a  cobbler.  But 
•his  father  can't  know  it." 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  Rebecca,  "  I  will  have  a  talk  with 
Mr.  Moss  about  Theodore." 

"  I  do  wish  you  would;  a  word  from  you  will  be  worth 
a  whole  sermon  from  me.  He  needn't  know,  of  course, 
that  I've  said  anything  to  you." 

"  Oh  !  certainly  not.  1  will  see  him,  perhaps  this  very 
evening,  as  I  go  home.  I  shall  be  apt  to  meet  him  coming 
from  the  village." 

It  was  near  sunset,  and  the  children  began  to  come  in, 
clamorous  for  supper.  Pamela  was  already  dressed,  in 
the  most  approved  style,  and  it  was  quite  time  that  Re- 
becca should  go  home.  There  was  a  quiet  good-bye  with 
Mrs.  Moss,  and  a  boisterous  farewell  with  the  children, 
and  a  promise  to  come  again,  and  then  she  stepped  out 
into  the  soft,  dewy  twilight.  At  the  gate,  however,  she 
met  Moses,  and  remembered  her  promise.  Moses  had  a 
thorough  respect  for  Rebecca,  mingled  with  gratitude,  and 
he  always  felt  that  his  dwelling  had  been  honored,  when 
she  had  paid  it  a  visit.  After  passing  a  remark  or  two, 
she  said  carelessly: 

"  "What  a  fine  boy  Theodore  is  growing,  Mr.  Moss.  He  is 
as  handsome  as  a  picture,"  which  in  truth  was  no  great 
exaggeration,  "and  smart,  too.  You  must  look  out  for 
him.  If  you  give  him  a  good  chance  at  business,  by  and 
by,  he  will  make  his  fortune.  He  will  be  a  son  for  you  to 
lean  upon  in  your  old  age." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  said  Moses.  "He's  a  masterful 
unruly  fellow,  now." 

"  Oh  !  he  has  plenty  of  spirit,  I  know.  That  is  the  very 
reason  I  say  he  will  never  settle  down  to  any  sort  of  hum- 


116  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

drum  life.  He'll  push  his  fortune  with  a  will,  one  of  these 
days." 

"Maybe,"  said  Moses.  "  I  know  if  I'd  had  more  spirit 
at  his  age,  I  might  have  been  something  more  than  a  cob- 
bler all  my  life." 

Rebecca  passed  on,  and  left  Moses  meditating  over  the 
gate.  That  was  the  last  of  his  trying  to  make  a  cobbler 
of  Theodore. 

Rebecca  walked  homeward  slowly,  through  the  rich 
June  dusk,  the  new  moon  shining  silvery  and  clear  over 
her  right  shoulder  —  she  playfully  marked  the  omen  —  and 
stars  glinting  out  in  the  wide  azure  fields  above.  Violets 
and  wild  honeysuckle  made  the  cool  night  air  heavy  with 
their  sweetness,  and  from  the  pine  grove,  over  which  the 
moon's  soft  sickle  hung,  night-birds  screamed,  and  the 
distance  and  the  dewy  air  softened  the  dissonance  of  their 
voices  to  something  that  was  wild  and  wailing  and  half 
prophetic. 

"  It  is  a  noble  thing  to  be  a  woman,"  thought  Rebecca  ; 
"  to  be  a  worker  in  spiritual  rather  than  material  things  ; 
to  be  born  to  an  unselfish  rather  than  a  selfish  vocation. 
Let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead.  I  have  still  my  woman- 
hood. Living  true  to  that,  my  life  may  gather  yet  some 
few  stray  gleams  of  sunshine." 

She  looked  abroad  over  the  soft  landscape  drawn  in 
shadow  and  overhung  with  rosy  light,  and  something  of 
its  infinite  beauty  and  repose  entered  into  her  soul.  Some 
dim  association  brought  to  her  mind  a  quaint  passage 
which  she  had  read  in  Plato  years  ago,  and  she  repeated 
it  aloud : 

"'Man's  soul  in  a  former  state  was  winged  and  soared, 
among  the  gods.  And  so  it  comes  to  pass  in  this  life, 
that  when  the  soul,  by  the  power  of  music,  or  poetry,  or 
the  sight  of  beauty,  hath  her  remembrance  quickened, 
forthwith  there  is  a  struggling  and  a  pricking  pain  as  of 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  117 

wings  trying  to  come  forth ;  even  as  in  children  teeth- 
ing.'" 

Palpitating  echoes  in  the  air  caught  the  murmur  and 
wafted  it  back  to  her,  and  a  voice  seemed  to  whisper  — 

"Raise  thy  wings,  O  spirit!  If  the  material  atmos- 
phere returns  thy  voice  to  thee,  shall  not  the  spiritual 
ether  respond  also  to  thine  efforts?  Have  patience  — 
wait." 

The  doctor's  conversation  recurred  to  her  mind,  but 
that  brought  only  painful  associations. 

"  It  is  not  for  me,"  she  said,  "to  wrong  any  good  man 
by  encouraging  him  to  love  me.  What  I  have  suffered,  I 
have  suffered  alone.  I  thank  God  that  no  human  heart 
has  thus  far  borne  a  single  pang  for  me.  Alone,  please 
God,  I  will  suffer  to  the  end,  rather  than  bring  the  shadow 
of  disgrace  to  any  man's  hearthstone.  And  yet — " 

Oh !  weary  heart,  boast  not  thy  strength  or  thy  weak- 
ness. God  alone  knoweth  either  the  one  or  the  other. 

Coming  in  sight  of  the  house,  she  saw  Xancy  sitting  in 
the  kitchen  porch  socially  entertaining  Lucretia,  who  had 
run  over  for  a  few  minutes'  chat. 

"  This  delicious  twilight  brings  out  the  night-birds," 
thought  Rebecca;  and  then  she  fell  to  pitying  the  forlorn 
and  loveless  state  of  these  two  ancient  spinsters.  How 
narrow  their  horizons  !  How  contracted  their  sympathies! 
What  failures  their  lives  had  been  in  richness,  and 
blessing,  and  inspiration.  They  had  known  so  little 
suffering.  They  had  gathered  so  little  increase.  Welcome 
pain!  welcome  reproach!  welcome  unrequited  weariness, 
rather  than  this  stagnation  —  this  death  in  life.  Mrs. 
Moss,  with  her  shiftless  husband  and  her  brood  of  turbu- 
lent children,  was  a  queen  to  them. 

As  she  passed  them,  she  caught  a  quaint  and  character- 
istic bit  of  dialogue.  Lucretia  had  been  recounting  her 
trials.  People  in  the  village,  shameless  gossips!  had 


118  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

been  spreading  scandalous  reports,  to  the  effect  that  she 
had  been  trying  to  inveigle  Joel,  the  doctor's  man,  into 
matrimony.  It  had  gone  so  far  that  the  doctor  had 
twitted  her  of  it  that  very  day.  She  was  afraid  Nancy 
might  have  had  a  hand  in  it.  She  had  always  thought 
Nancy  had  had  an  eye  on  him  herself,  ever  since  they  lived 
at  Mr.  Gladstone's  together,  and  she  had  come  right  over 
to  see. 

Nancy  had  emphatically  cleared  her  skirts  of  the  mis- 
demeanoi1,  and  then  Lucretia  had  launched  out  into 
terrible  invectives  against  whoever  had  so  sinned. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Nancy,  consolingly;  "they'll  get 
their  reward  in  the  next  world,  if  they  don't  in  this. 
That  is  always  such  a  comfort." 

"There  ain't  no  certainty  about  that,"  said  Lucretia, 
tartly.  "Just  before  they  die,  they'll,  like  as  not,  repent 
and  be  forgiven ;  and  that's  what  provokes  me." 

The  moon  was  flinging  a  single  silveiy  beam  into 
Rebecca's  chamber.  When  she  had  thrown  off  her 
bonnet,  she  knelt  in  the  white  circle  of  its  radiance  and 
thanked  God — not  for  peace,  but  for  pain;  not  for  con- 
tentment, but  for  aspiration. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  119 


XII. 

THE    SILENT    SHREW. 

One  warm  Sabbath  in  July,  Wyndham  was  electrified 
by  a  new  sensation.  Mrs.  Abraham  Gladstone  had  fainted 
in  church.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this  was  the  first 
indication  which  that  lady  had  shown  of  "feeling  the 
heat"  in  an  unusual  manner.  Far  from  it.  For  nearly  a 
month  she  had  given  unmistakable  evidence  of  unusual 
sensitiveness  in  that  direction.  She  persisted,  •  in  all 
weathers,  in  sleeping  with  her  chamber  windows  wide 
open,  somewhat  to  the  annoyance  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  who 
was  subject  to  colds  in.  the  head.  All  day  long,  and  every 
day,  she  kept  the  house  in  an  equally  well  ventilated 
condition ;  at  least,  so  it  seemed  to  Mr.  Gladstone,  who 
never  entered  it  but  he  found  a  breeze  like  a  northwester 
careering  through  it,  which,  while  it  was  sometimes  wel- 
come, at  others  produced  the  sensation  of  a  cold  shower- 
bath.  Mr.  Gladstone  suggested  fans,  which  suggestion 
being  received  in  silence,  he  brought  home  and  distributed 
through  the  house  a  half  dozen  substantial  palm  leaves. 
Not  one  of  them,  that  he  could  discover,  was  ever 
removed  from  the  place  where  he  had  put  it;  but  still  the 
doors  and  windows  were  so  set  as  to  fan  the  house  with 
incessant  draughts.  Years  of  experience  had  taught  Mr. 
Gladstone  the  utter  uselessness  of  expostulations.  Mrs. 
Gladstone  never  talked,  but  she  had  a  habit  of  self-defense 
akin  to  that  of  some  otherwise  impotent  animals.  She 
filled  the  house  with  the  odor  of  her  martyrdom,  to  that 
extent  that  no  person  with  ordinary  olfactory  sensibilities 
could  abide  in  it.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  convinced  that  it 
wasn't  palm  leaves  that  she  wanted,  and  possessed 


120  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

himself  with  the  requisite  patience  to  find  out  what  it 
was.  On  that  memorable  Sunday,  when  she  had  fainted 
and  been  carried  out  by  the  gentlemen,  she  had  been 
arrayed  in  her  best,  including  the  blue  silk,  and  the  lace 
flounce.  When,  therefore,  Mr.  Gladstone  had  suggested : 
"Melissa,  if  you  would  use  a  fan,  I  think  you  wouldn't 
get  so  faint,"  and  the  suggestion  had  been  received  with 
the  accustomed  silence,  it  occurred  to  him,  by  some  subtile 
law  of  association,  that  the  quaint  old  combination  of  wire 
and  turkey  feathers  which  did  duty  in  their  pew,  as  a 
moderator  of  the  weather,  would  not  accord  perfectly 
with  Mrs.  Gladstone's  attire.  Mrs.  Gladstone,  he  knew, 
was  a  martyr  to  the  proprieties.  He  felt  certain  that  she 
would  die,  or,  at  the  least,  faint  in  the  most  graceful  and 
approved  style,  before  she  would  consent  to  use  a  thing  in 
the  least  degree  inferior  to  what  she  considered  due  to 
her  position.  Mr.  Gladstone  felt  relieved,  and  without 
another  word  went  right  away  to  Parker's,  and  bought  a 
fan  of  scarlet  silk  and  sandal  wood,  which  he  brought 
home  and  duly  presented  to  his  wife. 

She  was  sitting  on  the  sofa  in  their  little  sitting-room; 
the  pretty  basket  work-stand  which  she  so  delighted  in 
drawn  close  beside  her,  and  Echo  snuggled  in  the  corner 
of  the  sofa,  and  covered  with  his  gay  colored  afghan. 
Nothing  could  be  cosier  or  more  tempting  than  the  picture 
thus  presented. 

"  Melissa,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  sitting  down  beside  her, 
"  I  was  in  at  Parker's  to-day,  and  saw  a  pretty  fan,  at  least 
I  thought  it  pretty,  and  as  I  have  noticed,  lately,  that  you 
have  no  handsome  fan,  I  bought  it  for  you.  I  hope  it  will 
please  you." 

Mrs.  Gladstone  took  the  opened  box,  which  contained 
the  fan,  and  glancing  at  it,  without  even  taking  it  out,  laid 
it  into  the  work-basket. 

"  It  is  very  pretty." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  121 

It  was  not,  all  things  considered,  a  very  satisfactory 
acceptance;  but,  then,  Abraham  reflected  that  his  wife  was 
not  a  talker,  a  fact  upon  which  he  had  prided  himself  not 
a  little  before  their  marriage — he  had  learnt  wisdom  since, 
and  strove  to  be  content. 

Melissa  certainly  looked  very  pretty  that  evening.  She 
was  always  faultlessly  neat  and  tasteful  in  her  appearance. 
She  was,  besides,  a  good  housekeeper,  and  very  exact  and 
conscientious  about  nearly  all  the  details  of  her  manner 
and  conduct.  For  instance,  she  would  have  cut  off  her 
hand,  or,  more  expressive  still,  would  have  denied  herself, 
for  a  season,  of  any  darling  elegance  in  dress,  before  she 
would  run  in  debt ;  and  no  man  had  less  cause  than  Abra- 
ham Gladstone  to  complain  of  his  wife's  conduct  toward 
her  gentlemen  acquaintances.  It  had  sometimes  occurred 
to  Abraham,  that  a  larger  and  more  liberal  soul  might 
have  been  less  guarded  at  some  of  these  points,  without,  at 
the  same  time,  trespassing  against  any  reasonable  bounds. 
However,  that  he  felt  might  be  drawing  rather  too  fine  a 
line ;  and  he  satisfied  himself  with  saying,  that,  on  the 
whole,  Melissa  was  in  these  respects  a  model  wife. 

Then,  she  was  his  first  love  ;  all  the  romance  and  senti- 
ment of  his  youth  had  clustered  about  her,  and  you  know 

"  You  may  break,  yon  may  shatter  the  vase,  if  you  will, 
The  scent  of  the  roses  will  hang  rcand  it  still." 

On  this  particular  evening,  Abraham  felt  a  kindly  return 
of  the  love  of  his  youth ;  and  as  Melissa  sat  there,  stitch- 
ing busily  at  some  delicate  trifle  of  muslin,  he  was  strongly 
tempted  to  be  affectionate.  So,  putting  his  arm  about  her 
waist,  he  said : 

"  Melissa,  I  think  you  might  lay  aside  that  work  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  just  make  yourself  entertaining.    I  don't 
know  when  I've  held  your  hand  in  mine  for  a  minute,  as  I 
Msed  to,  before  we  were  married." 
P 


122  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

His  purpose  was  very  apparent,  but  then  it  was  also  very 
innocent.  With  a  scarcely  perceptible  motion,  she  drew 
herself  away  from  him,  and  replied,  in  that  calm,  even 
voice — the  voice  that  never  scolded : 

"Mr.  Gladstone,  you  forget  yourself." 

Abraham's  dream  dissolved  in  an  instant.  He  kissed 
her  because  he  would  kiss  her,  she  receiving  the  caress 
under  a  silent  protest;  and  then  he  found  a  book,  and 
taking  refuge  in  an  easy  chair,  beguiled  the  remainder 
of  the  evening  with  a  Treatise  on  the  Marriage  Contract. 

Abraham  watched  carefully  for  the  first  appearance  in 
public  of  the  new  fan.  He  watched  in  vain.  He  had  a 
well  founded  belief  that  it  had  never  been  taken  from  its 
box.  At  last,  after  several  weeks  had  elapsed,  during 
which,  however,  the  house  had  returned  to  its  normal 
condition  respecting  ventilation,  he  one  day  inquired  : 

"Melissa,  why  do  you  never  carry  your  new  fan  ?" 

"The  odor  of  sandal-wood  is  very  offensive  to  me." 

"  Why,  in  the  name  of  all  the  saints,  didn't  you  tell  me 
that  before  ?  " 

"I  supposed  you  knew  it." 

Abraham  shut  his  teeth  together.  It  was  of  no  use  to 
talk.  He  could  not  say  anything  to  acceptance,  unless  he 
were  to  say  exactly  the  thing  which  she  was  bent  upon 
making  him  say,  and  what  that  was  he  had  not  as  yet  the 
most  remote  idea.  He  made  a  blind  effort,  fortunately  in 
the  right  direction. 

"If  you  never  intend  to  use  the  fan,  perhaps  you  had 
better  take  it  to  Parker,  and  ask  him  to  exchange  it  for 
one  you  can  use." 

"  I  think  the  price  of  this  fan  was  six  dollars.  He  has 
one  for  twelve,  that  would  suit  me  precisely ;  but  that,  I 
am  aware,  is  more  than  you  are  able  to  pay." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Abraham,  "  anything  for  peace,"  and 
he  took  out  the  money,  and  gave  it  to  her  at  once.  He 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  12S 

was  presently  made  to  regret  the  last  exclamation,  for  her 
martyr-like  silence  recalled  it  to  him  every  hour  of  that 
day,  and  many  days  thereafter. 

Mrs.  Gladstone  went  down  to  Parker's,  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  exchanged  the  red  fan  for  a  blue  one,  the  exact 
shade  of  her  dress,  with  elegantly  cut  pearl  sticks.  When 
the  coveted  article  was  fairly  in  her  possession  — 

"  Now,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  if  Lucy  Ellery  should  be 
married  this  fall,  as  I  think  she  will,  I  am  ready  for  the 
wedding.  I  can  go  as  well  dressed  as  Mrs.  Darrell,  if  not 
better." 

It  was  a  most  important  and  desirable  consummation. 

To  Abraham,  meanwhile,  the  bitterest  part  of  his  pov- 
erty was  the  poverty  of  his  home-life.  He  was  struggling 
manfully  with  his  pecuniary  burden.  He  had  many  dis- 
couragements, but  against  them  all  he  made  headway. 
There  were  days,  it  is  true,  when  his  labor  was  hard  and 
exhausting ;  when,  from  those  who  were  his  open  friends,  he 
experienced  secret  enmity;  when  the  selfishness,  the  rivalry, 
the  combativeness  that  must  enter  largely  into  the  life  of 
the  successful  man,  made  sad  inroads  upon  his  patience, 
his  temper,  his  faith.  At  such  times  he  fully  realized  how 
it  was  that  woman  was  made  a  helpmeet  for  man  ;  a  foun- 
tain of  spiritual  strength  in  reserve,  a  portion  of  heavenly 
grace  and  benediction,  incarnated  and  placed  in  his  home 
for  the  daily  and  hourly  reinforcement  of  his  spiritual 
nature.  In  his  own  peculiar  nook  at  home  hung  a  little 
copy  of  Ary  Schaffer's  Dante  and  Beatrice,  and  to  his 
hungry  soul  there  seemed  a  peculiar  significance  in  the 
attitudes  of  the  figures.  The  poet  looks  up  to  the  woman, 
the  woman  looks  up  to  heaven ;  and,  as  he  studied  the 
picture,  he  saw  plainly  how  the  struggles  of  a  man's  hard, 
material  life,  make  him  unfit  for  the  direct  influence  of 
the  heavenly  wisdom.  His  eyes  grow  blurred  with  looking 
so  much  through  vapors;  his  senses  grow  dulled  with 


124  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  constant  giving  and  receiving  of  blows.  How  fit  and 
meet,  then,  that  in  the  sacred  refuge  of  home  shall  be  one 
whose  very  offices  keep  alive  constantly  her  spiritual 
nature,  and  through  whose  innocent  caresses  and  pure 
endearments  heaven's  blessings  may  descend  to  his  weary 
soul.  The  man  who  looks  thus  upon  his  wife  will  never 
regard  her  physical  weakness  or  incapacity  as  a  proof  of 
inferiority.  If  earth  were  all,  if  there  were  no  heaven 
above  us,  the  giant  would  be  the  highest  type  of  human 
life.  If  we  take  the  spiritual  world  into  the  account,  who 
is  so  near  it,  who  draws  so  fully  and  so  freely  from  it,  as 
the  true,  perfected  woman  ?• 

One  step  farther.  If  Mrs.  Gladstone  was  a  stunted, 
abortive,  imperfect  specimen  of  womankind,  who  made 
her  so  to  differ  from  nobler  representatives  of  her  sex? 
Not  herself,  surely,  for  she  was  essentially  what  she  was 
born,  -and  what  circumstances  had  made  her.  If  her 
soul  was  dark  and  narrow,  and  conditioned  all  around  by 
strong  desires  and  ingrained  prejudices,  it  was,  neverthe- 
less, just  what  was  given  her  by  her  parents,  modified  by 
some  months,  more  or  less,  of  ante-natal  experience.  A 
deep  seer  has  said,  "  The  gate  of  gifts  closes  at  one's 
birth  ; "  and  to  her  forming  had  gone  little  that  was  broad, 
or  wise,  or  tender,  or  true.  Is  it  best,  by  ignorance  and 
unwise  restraint,  to  multiply  such  mothers  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth  ? 

Cultivation  may  do  much  —  the  Spirit  of  God  may  do 
much  more  —  but  no  power  of  God  Himself  has  ever  been 
made  manifest  that  can  change  the  essential  and  ingrained 
attributes  of  a  human  soul.  The  man  or  the  woman  that 
is  born  narrow,  or  sensual,  or  arbitrary,  may  be  modified 
by  after  influences,  but  can  never  become,  in  any  large 
sense,  truly  broad,  or  pure,  or  gentle. 

On  a  day  of  this  same  July,  Rebecca  took  Evelyn  out 
on  a  berrying  excursion  along  the  roadside.  The  bushes 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  125 

were  few,  and  their  success  was  not  cheering.  Just  as 
they  were  about  to  turn  their  steps  homeward,  however, 
a  carriage  appeared  upon  the  road,  and  Mr.  Gladstone's 
voice  cried  out  in  its  gayest  tone  to  Evelyn : 

" How,  now,  little  one?  Raspberries  are  scarce  here, 
are  they  not  ?  " 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  fond  of  children,  and  had  somehow 
contracted  a  special  predilection  for  Evelyn  Darrell, 
which,  with  the  usual  spontaneity  of  children,  she  cordi- 
ally returned : 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Evelyn.  "Mr.  Gladstone,  where 
are  your  raspberry  bushes  ?  You  told  me  that  you  had 
the  finest  in  town." 

"  So  I  have.  Jump  into  the  buggy  with  me,  and  I'll 
show  them  to  you." 

"  Come,  Reba,"  said  Eva,  eagerly. 

Rebecca  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Then  reflecting  that 
what  would  be  discretion  in  a  yoxing  lady  might  seem 
mere  prudery  in  a  children's  nurse,  she  followed  the  lead 
of  the  impatient  child.  Mr.  Gladstone  noticed  that 
momentary  hesitation.  It  led  him  to  bestow  more  atten- 
tion upon  Rebecca  than  he  might  otherwise  have  done. 
His  instantaneous  reflection  was  — 

"  What  a  very  ladylike  looking  person  for  a  child's  nurse." 

He  had  intended  to  lift  Eva  over  the  wheel  without 
himself  alighting,  but  that  glance  at  Rebecca  changed  his 
resolution,  and  he  sprang  out  and  assisted  them  both  into 
the  vehicle.  All  this  was  by-play,  however.  His  main 
object  was  evidently  to  enjoy  a  chat  and  a  frolic  with 
Evelyn. 

"My  raspberry  bushes  are  out  in  a  field,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  have  not  the  least  idea  how  I  am  to  get  a  young  lady  like 
you  over  the  fence." 

"  Oh !  but  I  can  climb  any  fence  in  this  town.  My 
uncle  says  I'm  a  romp." 


-126  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  Oh !  the  doctor's  an  old  fogy." 

"An  old  what!     Mr.  Gladstone,  isn't  that  slang?" 

*'  There !  I  knew  I  should  shock  such  a  prim  young 
woman  as  you  are.  I'm  about  sorry  I  offered  to  show 
you  the  raspberries  after  all.1' 

"Mr.  Gladstone,  you  are  not  the  least  sorry — you  know 
yo  i  are  not.  But  you  don't  like  my  uncle,  and  I  do." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  like  him  immensely  —  all  the  better 
because  he  has  such  a  charming  little  niece." 

"You  are  flattering  me,  and  I  shall  tell  Mrs.  Gladstone," 
said  Evelyn,  whom  his  raillery  had  provoked  to  play  the 
prude. 

"Ah!  no  you  will  not,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone.  "I  shall 
kiss  you — first  on  one  cheek,  like  that!  and  then  on  the 
other,  so !  and  you  will  not  dare  to  tell  Mrs.  Gladstone 
even  then." 

Evelyn  screamed,  and  just  then  they  arrived  at  the  field. 
Mr.  Gladstone  alighted  and  hitched  the  horse,  prophesying 
all  the  time  that  he  should  never  be  able  to  get  Evelyn 
over  the  fence.  But,  finally,  he  lifted  her  out  in  his  arms, 
and,  giving  a  spring,  jumped  the  fence  himself  and  set 
her  safely  down  upon  the  other  side. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "you  must  excuse  me  a  moment,  while 
I  go  back  for  your  governess." 

He  went  over  the  fence  this  time  a  little  more  circum- 
spectly, and  politely  assisted  Reba. 

Rebecca  had  listened  all  the  while  to  the  cheery  sound 
of  his  voice,  and  felt  what  a  large,  pure,  noble  soul  it  was 
that  could  so  disport  itself  with  a  little  child.  As  he 
suddenly  turned  to  come  towai'd  her,  however,  there  was 
something  in  his  manner,  or  perhaps  some  expression  of 
his  face,  which  struck  her  as  painfully  familiar. 

As  he  turned  away  with  Eva,  to  help  her  pull  down  the 
bushes,  she  had  a  good  opportunity  to  study  bis  face.  It 
was  strong,  open,  honest. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  127 

"  Oh!"  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  see;  it  is  the  cleft  chin. 
Am  I  never  to  see  a  cleft  chin  again,  but  that  old  ghost 
shall  rise  to  haunt  me  ?  It  was  that,  then,  together  with 
the  dark  visage,  which  deceived  me  in  that  picture  of  the 
doctor's.  It  is  a  family  trait  repeated  here.  I  am  glad  to 
put  that  doubt  to  rest." 

In  truth  it  had  vaguely  troubled  her,  ever  since  the  day 
when  she  had  fainted  at  sight  of  the  doctor's  pocket-case ; 
but  now  she  dismissed  it  altogether  from  her  mind,  and 
quietly  enjoyed  the  high  spirits  and  rather  rollicking  fun 
of  her  companions.  Presently,  in  some  rash  escapade, 
Evelyn  scratched  her  arm  with  a  long  thorn  of  the  raspberry 
bushes.  She  screamed,  and  Mr.  Gladstone  instantly  became 
all  regret  and  sympathy.  It  was  a  long  and  deep  mark, 
and  Rebecca  drew  forth  her  handkerchief  and  bound  it  up. 

"  What  a  graceful,  womanly  way  she  has  for  a  servant," 
thought  Mr.  Gladstone,  "  and  so  much  true  feeling,  too. 
There  must  be  a  story  about  her.  I  will  ask  Darrell  some 
time." 

They  walked  along  the  fence  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
picking  the  berries  as  they  went.  By  that  time  their 
baskets  were  quite  full,  and  they  started  to  retrace  their 
steps.  Evelyn  was  growing  tired,  and  her  glee  was  less 
noisy;  and,  to  fill  the  pauses  of  their  talk,  Mr.  Gladstone 
was  obliged  to  address  himself  to  Reba. 

It  was  simple  chat,  a  mere  observation  upon  the  fineness 
of  the  berries  this  year,  and  the  promise  of  fruit  in  the 
orchards;  but  Rebecca's  voice,  and  the  refined  construc- 
tion of  her  sentences,  deepened  the  impression  of  her  face 
and  bearing.  As  Mr.  Gladstone  left  her  with  Eva,  at  Mr. 
Darrell' s  gate,  he  thought  to  himself: 

"  Melissa  is  quite  as  delicately  feminine  and  pretty  as 
this  woman.  Ah !  why  has  she  not  more  of  that  dewy 
softness  in  her  eye,  more  of  that  tremulous  music  in  her 
voice  ?  " 


128  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

But  he  checked  himself.  Most  men  in  his  circumstances 
would  have  held  at  least  the  fancy  free  to  roam.  Not 
Abraham  Gladstone.  Besides  that  the  circumstances  of 
his  life  filled  him  with  grave  and  noble  thought,  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  trifling  and  dalliance ,  the  innate  honesty 
of  the  man  held  him  true  to  his  sacred  pledge :  "  To 
forsake  all  others,  and  keep  you  only  unto  her."  The 
words  had  a  meaning  to  him  which  he  dared  not  ignore 
or  scorn.  But,  if  he  had  no  right  to  sigh  over  this  woman's 
charms,  there  was  no  law,  human  or  divine,  to  prevent  his 
yielding  to  her  the  respectful  admiration  which  a  true 
manhood  ever  accords  to  a  pure  and  tender  womanhood. 

Thereafter,  however  preoccupied,  he  never  met  her  on 
the  street  without  a  grave  recognition  and  a  courteous 
gesture. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  129 


XIII. 

CHIEFLY    METAPHYSICAL. 

The  beautiful  October  weather  came,  and  still  Mrs. 
Darrell  gained  little  relief.  Her  husband  had  grown  to 
regard  her  malady  as  a  pardonable  mental  weakness.  It 
was  the  drawback  upon  having  a  wife,  that  most  of  them 
were  subject  to  some  such  unreasonable  freak.  He  tried 
to  bear  the  trial  philosophically,  and  even  with  Christian 
resignation,  though  it  must  be  confessed  that  sometimes, 
when  she  lay  awake  for  nearly  the  whole  night,  or  worse, 
got  so  restless,  so  beset  with  baleful  shadows  and  horrible 
sounds  and  surmises  that  she  could  no  longer  stay  in  bed, 
but  was  fain  to  rise  and  light  a  lamp  to  dispel  her  demons, 
his  temper  nearly  failed  him.  However,  on  the  whole,  he 
behaved  with  quite  exemplary  moderation. 

He  must  occasionally,  to  be  sure,  have  his  joke  at  her 
expense ;  mimic  her  sighs,  tease  her  whims,  call  her  his 
melancholy  Ophelia,  and  warn  her  that,  if  she  committed 
suicide,  she  needn't  expect  Christian  burial ;  and  all  this 
not  exactly  in  that  loving  kind  of  banter  which  amounts 
to  a  caress,  but  with  a  spice  of  sarcasm,  which  cut  deeply 
into  the  sensitive  heart  of  the  suffering  woman. 

"Whereupon  the  doctor  soliloquized:  "The  men  of 
each  generation  make  fools  of  themselves  after  their  own 
fashion.  Fifty  years  ago,  men  worked  their  wives  as  they 
would  have  thought  it  folly  to  work  their  brutes,  in  the 
same  condition.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  women  of 
to-day  are  physically  only  to  be  put  in  glass  cases,  and 
kept  out  of  harm's  way,  like  other  ornamental  ware.  But 
they  are  fine  grained,  full  of  feelings  and  susceptibilities 
which  their  mothers  never  knew,  and  which  their  husbands 


130  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

—  make  fun  of.  They  say  women  and  black  men  are 
npecially  cursed  in  the  Bible.  White  men  go  free.  It's 
just — as  —  well.  The  Lord  knew  that  their — blindness 
and  —  wrong-headedness  would  make  it  about  event" 

But  Laura,  often  wounded,  bore  no  malice.  "  It  is  hard," 
she  said,  "  for  Ralph  to  have  such  a  miserable  apology  for 
a  wife.  I  do  hope,  when  the  fall  weather  comes,  I  shall 
get  stronger." 

So,  every  day  she  took  her  spiritless  frame  out  upon  the 
sunny  hillsides,  and  basked  in  the  October  glory,  and 
pulled  the  asters,  and  the  golden-rod;  and  gazing  dreamily 
off  into  the  delicious  hazy  distance,  wondered,  and  wondered, 
and  wondered — why  God,  who  is  goodness,  made  women 
as  He  did;  and  making  them  so,  a  sealed  mystery,  a  laby- 
rinth of  strange  uses  and  seemingly  contradictory  mean- 
ings, why  He  had  given  to  no  mortal  being  the  clue  thereof. 
And  she  prayed  earnestly,  fervently,  for  light ;  light  for 
herself,  and  light  for  others  of  her  sex.  And  so  her  days 
went  on. 

At  the  back  of  the  house,  and  across  a  smooth  ravine, 
rose  a  rocky  hill,  crowned  at  the  top  with  a  pine  grove. 
Stunted  pines  and  bay-berry  bushes  grew  here  and  there 
over  the  hillside;  but  there  were  smooth,  open  patches  of 
mossy  turf,  and  broad  plateaus  of  ledge,  where  Laura 
delighted  to  sit  and  drink  in  the  warm  October  sunshine. 
It  seemed  to  her  that  the  blue  sky  overhead,  the  affluence 
'of  the  golden  air  saturated  with  the  aromatic  breath  of 
the  pines,  and  made  musical  by  their  almost  articulate 
murmurs,  the  broad  expanse  of  the  landscape  before  her, 
and  the  tender,  delicious  distance,  were  all  medicaments 
of  rare  and  potent  worth.  In  the  grove  above  her  the 
children  played  with  Rebecca,  gathering  pine  cones,  or 
tossing  about  the  fragrant  leaves,  or  mimicking,  with 
childish  glee,  the  cawing  of  the  crows  that  yearly  built  in 
the  topmost  branches  of  the  trees. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  131 

As  the  day  waned,  the  children  would  come  shouting 
down  the  hillside,  toward  her,  bringing  such  treasures  as 
they  had  gathered ;  usually  recounting  to  her  some  story, 
with  which  Rebecca  had  managed  to  hold  their  attention, 
and  so  keep  them  within  the  sound  of  her  voice.  Some- 
times it  was  the  tale  of  a  fern  leaf,  that  ages  ago  prayed 
for  immortality,  and  so,  through  fire,  and  flood,  and  great 
upheavings,  was  turned  to  stone,  and  lives  to-day  in  the 
slaty  ledges  of  the  mountains.  Sometimes  it  was  about  the 
great  pine  forests,  which  moaned  and  sighed  through 
unnumbered  ages  that  a  soul  might  be  given  them  —  and 
the  pines  moan  and  sigh  to  this  day,  with  that  remem- 
bered agony;  how  they  were  swept  with  devouring  flames 
and  transformed  to  immense  repositories  of  fossil  coal; 
and  then,  when  they  had  lain  other  ages  in  the  deep,  deep 
bosom  of  the  earth,  were  put  again  to  torture  of  man's 
devising,  and  there  leaped  forth  that  bright,  ethereal 
flame-spirit,  that  makes  our  homes  beautiful  by  night,  and 
lights  up,  like  a  torch  from  Heaven,  the  unsightly  abodes 
of  crime.  Or,  it  was  a  fairy  tale  of  how  a  nymph  grew 
weary  of  her  ocean  home,  and  prayed  for  a  respite  from 
the  never  ceasing  murmur  of  the  sea,  and  a  dwelling 
among  the  green  bowers  of  earth.  How  her  prayer  was 
granted,  and  she  was  imprisoned  in  her  shell,  and  thrown 
by  strong  tides  upon  the  shining  beach.  There  an  artist 
found  the  shell,  and  seeing,  by  his  inner  vison,  the  impris- 
oned nymph,  with  his  chisel  set  her  free,  and  she  became 
a  cameo.  Thus,  by  arraying  grave  truths  in  the  garments 
of  a  pure  and  beautiful  fiction,  were  their  tender  minds 
both  amused  and  instructed,  their  fancy  stirred,  their 
imagination  given  wings,  and  their  hearts  touched  with 
tenderness. 

"  I  believe,"  said  Mrs.  Darrell  one  day,  "  I  will  keep  you 
with  me,  Reba,  and  let  the  children  go  into  the  woods 
by  themselves.  I  think  I  need  you  most." 


132  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

So  the  children  strayed  off,  and  the  two  women  sat  on 
the  outcropping  surface  of  a  great  granite  ledge,  and 
talked. 

"I  want  to  know,"  said  Mrs.  Darrell,  "if  it  ever  seems 
to  you  that  you  retain  impressions  of  a  previous  state  of 
existence.  Can  you  not  look  back  in  some  dim,  vague 
way,  upon  a  life  that  preceded  this,  and  seems  some  way 
of  deeper,  grander  import?" 

Reba  replied  dreamily :  "  I  look  back  thus  upon  my 
childhood.  Beyond  that,  I  have  no  glimmer  of  reminis- 
cence." 

Laura  refrained  from  questions.  A  determined  ques- 
tioner is  a  nuisance;  a  person  forever  prying  about  the 
roots  of  one's  cherished  delicacies  with  his  intrusive, 
inevitable  spade.  These  two  women  were  both  of  too 
fine  a  fiber  for  that. 

"  I  have  heard  the  same  remark  made  before,"  said 
Reba,  "but  it  always  seemed  to  me  that  the  phenomenon 
must  be  referable  to  one  or  other  of  two  causes.  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  can  easily  imagine  impressions  made 
so  strongly  upon  the  mother's  mind  as  to  leave  a  life-long 
imprint  upon  the  mind  of  the  child.  The  connection 
betAveen  child  and  mother  during  the  ante-natal  period  is 
so  strong,  that  it  seems  to  me  fairly  to  cover  these 
impressions.  Or,  it  may  be  referable  to  the  double  con- 
sciousness of  the  soul,  a  thing  at  present  so  mistily  under- 
stood, that  I  think  the  less  said  about  it  the  better, 
except  to  mark  such  phenomena  concerning  it  as  are  well 
known  and  authenticated.  After  all,  I  am  no  metaphy- 
sician, and  scarcely  competent  to  speak  at  all  on  the 
subject." 

"  But  it  seems  to  me,  Reba,  that  without,  perhaps, 
being  richly  gifted  with  logical  powers,  you  have  that 
purely  feminine  quality  of  the  intellect,  intuition,  rarely 
developed.  I  like  what  you  say,  because  it  always  goes 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  133 

to  the  heart  of  a  thing,  without,  perhaps,  leaving  a  well 
beaten  path  behind.  Now,  I  have  more  of  my  father  in 
me,  intellectually,  than  of  my  mother;  so  I  reason  better 
than  I  see." 

"As  you  grow  womanly  through  suffering,"  said  Reba> 
"  your  vision  will  grow  clearer.  Men  have  to  walk  instead 
of  soaring,  because  the  exercise  of  their  lives  does  not 
develop  their  wings,  or,  to  speak  literally,  their  spiritual 
insight.  Let  the  most  manly  man  but  suffer  deeply 
enough,  and  his  wings  begin  to  grow  straightway;  he 
begins  to  speak  intuitionally,  that  is,  in  the  speech  of 
women,  the  speech  of  angels." 

"Which  shows  the  exceeding  consistency  of  setting 
reason  above  insight;  a  life  of  labor  above  a  life  of  endur- 
ance." 

The  carriage  came  up  the  road  to  take  Mrs.  Darrell  and 
the  children  into  the  village,  and  Rebecca  lingered  alone 
among  the  pines.  Lying  down  upon  the  soft  and  fragrant 
couch  which  the  years  had  spread  for  her,  and  resting  her 
head  upon  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  in  a  sorrowful, 
dejected  way,  she  began  a  sort  of  unconscious  review  of 
her  life,  the  pines  all  the  while  whispering  their  mournful 
cadences  through  her  soul. 

There  were  times,  one  cannot  deny  it,  when  her  bruised 
and  broken  heart  yearned  for  deeper  comfort,  more 
abounding  strength,  than  her  circumstances  afforded  her. 
There  were  haunting  memories  that  would  not  be  laid, 
but  which  made  the  watches  of  many  a  night  sleepless 
and  tearful.  Eyes  that  would  flash  on  her  through 
dreams,  tones  that  freighted  every  wind,  the  "touch  of 
vanished  hands"  that  thrilled  her  hour  by  hour  as  she 
went  about  her  daily  duties.  This  and  that  surging  aspi- 
ration, which  is  at  once  the  bane  and  the  blessing  of  every 
noble  heart;  which  breaks  up  the  soul's  peace  and  makes 
wreck  and  ruin  of  many  patient  graces,  but  which  also 


134  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

tides  grand  resolves  over  sandy  bars  and  shallow  flats, 
and  transforms  an  infinite  calm  into  an  infinite  grandeur. 

With  her  mind  thus  unsettled,  and  its  most  orderly 
forces  in  revolt,  who  can  measure  the  force  of  the  temp- 
tation which  the  doctor's  evident  partiality  afforded  her? 
Only  the  evening  before,  under  pretense  of  seeing  how 
Mr.  Darrell's  new  preventive  of  curculio  worked,  he  had 
sought  her  in  the  garden,  and  sitting  by  her  side  in  the 
honeysuckle  arbor,  had  talked  with  her  in  a  way  in  which 
she  knew  the  doctor  was  not  in  the  habit  of  talking  to 
most  women.  She  recalled  the  soft  luster  of  his  deep, 
gray  eyes,  the  light  touch  of  his  hand,  as  it  hajj  rested 
for  a  moment  upon  her  shoulder,  the  silent  tenderness 
with  which  he  had  guarded  her  from  the  evening  damp- 
ness. She  thought,  with  throbs  of  yearning  and  desire, 
what  it  would  be  to  her  to  live  in  his  house,  to  find  there 
protection,  companionship,  the  right  to  love  and  be  loved  ; 
and  then,  knowing  what  barrier  stood  in  the  way,  she 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  wept  convulsively. 

"  The  days  of  God  are  a  thousand  years,"  whispered 
the  inner  voice  to  Rebecca,  as  she  lay  there  like  a  bruised 
sea-flower,  stranded  on  a  hard,  though  shining  beach. 
"  Gird  thy  soul  with  patience  and  wait." 

Suddenly  there  came  to  her  a  flash  of  vision.  The 
whole  immense  universe  of  God  wheeled  slowly  before 
her  eyes;  star  intersecting  star  in  its  orbit';  sun  balancing 
sun  ;  system  answering  to  system,  in  perfect  harmony  and 
equipoise.  All  in  swift  motion,  too,  through  distances 
which  made  speed  itself  seem  slowness,  and  moving  with 
such  precision  and  mutual  dependence,  that  the  least 
mischance  to  one  must  disarrange  the  whole. 

"Behold,"  said  the  voice,  "all  this  hath  the  Father 
planned  since  before  the  ages  were.  Till  this  time  hath 
been  no  flaw,  no  discord.  Is  He  able,  do  you  think,  to 
order  your  little  life  aright?  Is  His  universe  of  stars  more 


A  WOiMAN'S    SECRET.  135 

-precious  to  Him  than  His  universe  of  souls  ?  Shall  He  care 
for  the  one  and  despise  the  other?  Trust  Him  and  wait." 

There  was  a  great  influx  of  light  in  Rebecca's  soul,  and 
she  went  down  to  her  home  full  of  peace  and  joy.  The 
vision  had  left  behind  a  prophesy.  From  that  hour  she 
knew  that,  whether  or  not  she  had  ordained  it,  her  Father 
had  ordained  for  her — change;  and  in  the  far  future  per- 
haps, yet  a  future  toward  which  she  was  traveling  with  the 
swiftness  of  the  stars  over  the  infinite  spaces  of  heaven — 
rest,  peace. 

Such  moments  of  ecstasy  are  more  truly  elevating  and 
refining  than  any  intellectual  process.  They  lift  the  soul 
in  an  instant  to  a  point  which  labor  can  never  attain,  and 
the  remembrance  of  which,  though  the  wave  recedes,  the 
soul  never  entirely  loses. 

Rebecca  took  up  again  the  commonplaces  of  her  life, 
with  new  faith,  new  patience.  Her  heart  had  gathered 
strength ;  and,  when  the  duties  of  the  day  were  done,  she 
found  a  moment's  time  to  run  over  to  Miss  Joanna's  nur- 
sery, to  undress  the  little  Catherine,  and  rub  her  rosy 
limbs,  to  kiss  her  pretty  cheeks,  and  at  last  to  rock  her  to 
sleep  upon  her  bosom.  Then  she  sat  by  the  crib,  and 
watched  the  little  sleeper,  while  Miss  Joanna  chatted. 

"  You  cannot  imagine  how  fond  I  ain  getting  of  this 
child.  I,  who  never  used  to  love  babies  at  all,  except  at  a 
distance.  I  had  not  the  least  adaptation  to  them.  What 
it  was  that  set  Milton  thinking  that  a  babe  wTould  be  com- 
pany for  me,  I  cannot  divine.  But  then,  Milton  is  a  wonder 
of  comprehension,  when  there  is  a  woman  concerned.  I 
shall  never  forget  how  amazed  I  was  that  morning,  as  I 
saw  him  coming  up  the  walk,  that  strange  nurse-girl  with 
him,  and  this  child.  I  ran  up  stairs,  I  assure  you  I  did, 
without  stopping  for  an  explanation.  Mamma  exclaimed, 
' Milton,  what  have  you  done  now?  '  I  heard  it  as  I  went 
up  the  stairs.  '  Brought  Joanna  a  present  from  New 


136  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

York,'  said  Milton,  with  that  imperturbable  face  of  his. 
I  thought  at  once,  '  Oh !  it  is  a  black  child.  I  have  always 
had  such  an  anti-slavery  hobby.'  So  then  I  stole  back 
again.  But,  no  !  it  was  this  dear,  little,  delicate  creature, 
as  sweet  as  a  May  flower.  It  quite  took  my  breath  to 
look  at  her,  I  was  so  nervous  in  those  days.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  say  how  much  I  have  improved  since  then. 

"'Whose  is  it?'  I  asked. 

"  « Yours,'  said  Milton. 

"  '  No,  but  who  are  its  parents  ? ' 

"  '  That  I  don't  know,  any  more  than  you.  I  found  it 
on  the  street,  and  saved  it  from  the  city  alms-house.' 

"  I  think  I  blushed.  I  am  sure,  when  I  thought,  *  she  is 
really  mine,  then,'  my  heart  gave  a  great  leap.  It  was 
such  a  thing  to  have  a  little  babe  like  that  to  love,  and  to 
live  for,  and  to  feel  was  my  own.  But  I  could  not  say  all 
that  then.  In  fact,  I  think  I  manifested  some  reluctance 
to  accept  the  chai-ge.  But  that  was  soon  over,  and  then 
I  somehow  felt  so  much  younger  and  cheerier  than  I  had 
for  years. 

"  There  had  been  a  great  sadness  in  my  life.  I  think 
sometimes,  as  I  look  into  your  face,  that  you,  too,  know 
what  heart-sorrow  is,  which  is  perhaps  the  reason  I  feel 
like  telling  you  all  these  things.  I  had  tried  all  the  sources 
of  consolation  that  I  could  think  of,  but  none  of  them 
seemed  to  touch  the  springs  of  my  life.  I  had  read,  I  had 
studied,  I  had  practiced  charities  in  a  quiet  way ;  I  was  not 
born  a  colporteur,  or  a  city  mission  agent ;  I  got  a  piano, 
and  tried  music ;  I  had  attended  prayer-meetings,  and 
made  use  of  all  religious  exercises,  not  without  comfort ; 
but  everything  I  did  seemed  to  have  a  morbid  zest  about 
it,  until  this  dear  child  came.  The  baby  fingers  reached 
right  down  to  my  heart-strings,  and  in  two  days'  time  I 
felt  human  again." 

There  was  a  dainty  stain  of  rose  upon  her  cheek,  and  a 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  137 

deep,  absent  look  in  her  eye ;  and  Rebecca,  sitting  oppo- 
site her,  and  seeing  it  all  by  the  blaze  of  the  wood-fire  on 
the  hearth,  thought  she  had  never  seen  so  lovely  a  face. 

They  sat  there  in  the  silence,  and  the  cheerful  glow  of 
the  fire,  Rebecca  still  rocking  the  baby's  cradle,  and  tears 
hanging  on  the  lids  of  both,  when  the  doctor  entered. 

"  Good  evening,  Rebecca,"  he  said,  kindly,  drawing  off 
his  driving-glove,  and  extending  his  hand  to  her,  in  the 
quiet,  friendly  way,  that  had  latterly  marked  his  manner 
toward  her.  "  The  evening  air  grows  chilly.  There  will 
be  a  frost,  I  think." 

There  was  nothing  of  haste  or  excitement  in  his  manner, 
as  he  sat  down  before  the  fire,  and  spread  out  his  hands  to 
warm  them. 

"  The  day  has  been  very  lovely,"  said  Rebecca.  "  Mrs. 
Darrell,  and  the  children,  and  I,  have  been  out  nearly  all 
the  afternoon.  I  think  this  autumn  weather  is  reviving 
Mrs.  Darrell." 

"A  trifle  —  a  trifle,  may  be.  I  hope  she'll  get  better 
soon ;  she'll  need  strength.  Ralph  Darrell — is  —  a — pretty 
sick — man." 

"Is  Mr.  Darrell  ill?"  said  Rebecca.  "  Then  I  must  go 
at  once." 

"  He  was  taken  with  a  fainting  fit,  in  his  office,  about  an 
hour  ago.  I  brought  him  home.  It's  going  to  be  a  fever. 
The  fever — won't  be — bad  —  I  hope,  but  he's  dreadful 
nervous  ;  dreadful — nervous." 

The  doctor  held  the  words  upon  his  tongue  as  if  they 
had  a  comfortable  relish. 

"  About  as  nervous  a  man  as  I  ever  saw.  It'll  be  a  job 
to  take  care  of  him.  I  don't — want — to — hurry  you 
home — Rebecca — don't  want  to  hurry  you  away — but  I 
think,  as  like  as  not,  Laura'd  be  glad  to  see  you.  Tell  her 
I  shall  come  over  again,  before  I  go  to  bed." 

Rebecca  hurried  on  her  shawl,  and  started  for  home  as 
P2 


138  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

soon  as  possible.  At  the  door  she  met  Joel,  the  doctor's 
fat,  lazy,  faithful,  good-natured  man. 

"  The  doctor  said  I'd  better  wait,  miss,  and  take  you 
over  to  Mr.  DarrelPs,  as  Mrs.  Darrell,  she's  in  a  mighty 
hurry  to  have  you  get  home,"  said  Joel.  "  Better  jump 
right  inter  the  shay." 

Rebecca  needed  no  second  invitation,  and  in  three  min- 
utes' time  Joel  set  her  down  at  Mr.  DarrelPs  door. 

"  Mighty  fine  woman,  that  is,"  said  Joel;  "  doctor  thinks 
so,  too.  Fact,  I  shouldn't  a-thought  on't  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
him  —  though  he  never  said  nothing  about  her.  Doctor's  a 
judge  of  women.  Wonder,  if  he  was  me,  which  he  would 
choose — Nancy  or  Creeshy?" 

This  was  a  subject  upon  which  Joel's  mind  had  been 
greatly  exercised  for  the  last  ten  years,  and  he  seemed  to 
be  no  nearer  a  solution  of  the  problem  than  ever.  The 
doctor  thought  it  was  doubtful  if  ever  he  would  be,  unless 
he  received  some  extraneous  aid,  and  meditated  offering 
him,  sometime,  a  word  of  advice.  He  wasn't  in  any  hurry 
about  it,  though.  There  was  time  enough  yet. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  139 


XIV. 

HYSTERICS:  MALE  SPECIES. 

Mr.  Darrell  was  nervous,  and  with  reason.  For  years 
he  had  applied  himself  assiduously  to  his  business,  without 
allowing  himself  time  for  that  social  and  domestic  relaxa- 
tion which  his  system  required.  His  business  enterprises 
had  always  been,  as  compared  to  the  capital  invested  in 
them,  disproportionately  large.  The  consequence  was,  that 
his  mental  powers  were  kept  constantly  on  the  alert,  and 
strained  to  their  utmost  tension,  to  foresee  and  prepare  for 
the  varying  contingencies  of  trade.  He  had  thus  far  been 
uniformly  successful,  but  at  a  cost  of  vital  power,  which 
he  himself  was  the  last  to  realize.  A  trifle  of  indigestion, 
neglected,  induced  a  fever ;  and  the  system,  ripe  before 
for  revolution,  made  vigorous  preparations  to  avenge 
abuses. 

When  Rebecca  reached  home,  she  found  the  patient 
comfortably  ensconced  in  his  bed,  and  Mrs.  Darrell  sitting 
beside  him,  bathing  his  head  with  cologne  and  water. 
His  eyes  had  a  glassy  stare  in  them,  and  his  hand  twitched 
nervously  at  the  bed  clothes.  He  was  evidently  in  a  very 
excited  and  restless  state.  Yet,  as  he  had  a  strong  mas- 
culine frame,  and  lacked  those  fine  adjustments  which 
render  the  female  system  peculiarly  sensitive  to  nervous 
derangements,  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  his  sufferings 
were  extreme.  They  were  quite  sufficient,  however,  to 
upset  both  his  reason  and  his  temper. 

"  I'm  a  terribly  sick  man,  Rebecca,"  he  said.  "  I  hope 
I  shall  get  over  it;  but  the  doctor  looked  very  grave. 
You  will  have  to  take  care  of  the  children  and  the  house- 
work, for  1  shall  need  my  wife's  cnre  every  moment. 


140  A  WOMAN'S    SECRET. 

Laura,  what  are  your  pillows  made  of?  I  should  think 
this  one  was  stuffed  with  cobble  stones." 

Mrs.  Darrell  put  down  her  sponge,  and  proceeded  to 
smooth  his  pillow ;  and  Rebecca,  after  ascertaining  ihat 
she  could  be  of  no  immediate  use,  was  leaving  the  room, 
to  attend  to  her  other  duties,  when  Mr.  Darrell  called : 

"  Rebecca,  the  doctor  left  directions  for  preparing  me 
some  sort  of  gruel  or  toast  water.  Nancy  never  will 
do  it  as  it  should  be  done.  Won't  you  attend  to  it 
yourself?  " 

Rebecca  promised,  and  came  back  to  receive  her  instruc- 
tions from  Mrs.  Darrell.  By  that  time  cool  water  had  to 
be  brought  from  the  kitchen,  and  then  Mr.  Darrell  felt  as 
if  he  needed  mustard  poultices  on  his  feet,  till  at  last 
Rebecca  began  to  think  that  it  would  be  midnight  before 
she  should  get  time  to  put  the  children  to  bed. 

Mrs.  Darrell  watched  with  the  patient,  and  she  was  kept 
constantly  busy  with  his  various  demands  and  surmises. 
At  one  time  she  had  placed  a  pillow  at  the  back  of  her 
easy  chair,  and  fancied,  as  her  husband  was  quite  comfort- 
able, and  declared  his  intention  to  go  to  sleep,  that  she 
also  might  get  a  doze.  Hardly,  however,  had  she  closed 
her  eyes,  when  he  was  sitting  up  in  the  bed,  exclaiming  in 
a  startled  whisper : 

"  Laura !  there  are  robbers  getting  in  at  the  dining-room 
window.  Listen  !  don't  you  hear  the  rasping  of  the  saw?" 

"It  is  only  a  rat,  my  dear,  gnawing  in  the  wall." 

"  A  rat !  Laura,  do  you  suppose  I  have  common  sense, 
or  not?  I  tell  you,  it  is  burglars." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Laura,  without  stopping  to  remind 
him  how  many  times  her  own  nocturnal  terrors  had  been 
made  the  theme  of  his  scoffing  and  scorning,  or  to  assure 
him  that  she  had  heard  the  same  noise  a  thousand  times 
when  he  was  sound  asleep,  "  I  will  take  the  lamp,  and  go 
down  and  see." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  141 

She  went,  and  made  a  thorough  investigation,  but  found 
nothing  unusual. 

"  I  am  sure  it  was  a  rat,"  she  said.  "  Now,  do  compose 
yourself,  and  try  to  get  a  little  sleep." 

*'  Laura,  you  speak  of  my  composing  myself,  as  if  I 
could  compose  myself.  If  I  could  compose  myself,  I 
shouldn't  be  nervous.  I  tell  you,  when  a  man  is  nervous, 
he  can't  help  it." 

Laura  smiled  inwardly,  but  only  said,  in  the  kindest 
possible  tone  : 

"  I  know  that  very  well,  my  dear.  I  only  meant  that  you 
should  try  to  forget  your  fears,  and  go  to  sleep,  if  you  could." 

"  I  can't  go  to  sleep.  I  tell  you,  Laura,  I'm  dreadful 
sick.  I'll  have  Dr.  Ferris  called  in  to-morrow.  I  don't 
believe  Milton  knows  anything  about  fevers ;  fevers,  with 
nervous  complications,  I  mean." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Laura ;  "  there  is  no  objection  to  your 
calling  Dr.  Ferris,  it  you  like.  1  guess  1  had  better  give  you 
a  sleeping  powder  now,  for  you  must  go  to  sleep,  if  it  is 
possible." 

He  took  the  medicine,  and  after  that  did  get  a  little 
restless  sleep ;  but,  before  morning,  Rebecca  was  called 
up  to  make  fresh  mustard  poultices ;  and  as  soon  as  the 
day  broke,  John  was  dispatched  for  the  doctor. 

"  Shall  I  send  him  for  Dr.  Ferris  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Darrell. 

"  Laura,  how  you  talk !  Do  you  suppose  I  want  to  be 
drugged  to  death  ?  If  I  am  to  die,  I  prefer  dying  a  natural 
death." 

Which  was  all  the  same  to  Laura  as  if  he  had  said : 

"  No,  my  dear,  I  have  changed  my  mind." 

Morning  only  made  it  more  apparent  that  it  was  a  case 
of  settled  fever — not  alarming,  but  one  which  would 
probably  keep  him  in  his  room  for  two  or  three  weeks. 

"  Laura,"  said  the  doctor,  "who  are  you  going  to  get  to 
watch,  to-night  ?  " 


142  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Mr.  Darrell  looked  up  in  some  alarm. 

"Why,  Laura,  you  don't  think  of  leaving  me,  do 
you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ! "  she  said ;  "  at  least,  not  at  present.  But  I 
suppose  I  might  have  some  one  to  help  me  a  little,  so  that 
I  can  hold  out  the  longer." 

"  Y-e-s,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  doubtingly;  but  I  want  you. 
I  don't  know  what's  the  use  of  having  a  wife,  if  she  can't 
take  care  of  a  man  when  he's  sick." 

"  Ho-ho-ho  !  "  said  the  doctor,  pensively.  "  Some  rules 
dorft  work  both  ways." 

"  I  shall  take  care  of  you,  Ralph,"  said  Mrs.  Darrell, 
firmly.  "  I  shall  not  leave  you  an  instant,  when  I  can  help 
it.  I  know  just  how  you  feel,  dear,  and  I  would  not  for  the 
world  leave  you." 

He  was  somewhat  reassured ;  but  the  doctor  made 
certain  that  a  good  and  faithful  watcher  was  found  each 
night  to  make  Laura's  duties  less  arduous. 

To  tell  how  many  different  kinds  of  drink  were  prepared 
for  Mr.  Darrell,  each  one  a  more  miserable  failure  than 
the  last ;  how  many  ways  were  devised  to  make  his  med- 
icines palatable;  how  many  times  his  wife  was  called  to 
hear  the  noises  in  his  head;  how  many  times  the  doctor 
was  asked  if  he  did  not  think  that  something  ailed  him 
more  than  he  knew  of —  would  be  a  work  of  supereroga- 
tion. Suffice  it  to  say,  that  for  a  week  he  kept  the  house 
in  a  pretty  continual  state  of  uproar.  At  the  end  of  that 
time,  he  had  become  so  much  reduced  by  his  fever  as  to 
be  in  a  quieter  condition.  But  then  he  was  like  a  child 
about  his  wife.  She  must  sit  by  his  bedside  every 
moment,  ready  to  give  him  anything  he  desired,  and 
most  of  the  time  to  hold  his  hand,  or  bathe  his  head,  or, 
by  some  means  of  personal  contact,  impart  the  cool, 
quiet  magnetism  of  her  veins  to  him. 

On  one  of  those  occasions,  when  she  was  holding  his 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  143 

hand  in  hers,  and  trying  to  compose  him  sufficiently  to 
allow  him  to  sleep,  he  exclaimed: 

"  I  suppose,  Laura,  you  think  I'm  very  silly ;  but  if  you 
are  ever  nervous,  you'll  know." 

Laura  smiled.  "  I  think,  my  dear,  I  do  know  all  about 
it.  I  have  seen  a  great  many  days  when  I  would  have  given 
all  I  possessed,  if  you  would  have  left  your  business  for 
an  hour  or  two  and  petted  me  a  little." 

"  Why,  Laura,"  he  cried,  light  breaking  in  upon  his 
darkened  mind,  "  was  that  what  ailed  you?" 

When  the  crisis  of  the  fever  was  passed,  and  the  pet- 
tishness  of  convalescence  came  on,  there  was  another 
season  when  it  seemed  as  if  no  human  power  could  please 
him.  At  one  time  he  demanded  of  Laura  why  she  would 
persist  in  wearing  her  walking  boots  in  his  room;  to  which 
her  only  reply  was  to  take  off  her  delicate  slipper  and 
hold  it  up  to  his  view,  when  he  informed  her  that  she 
certainly  had  the  tread  of  an  elephant.  The  next  day  he 
accused  her  of  stealing  about  his  room  as  stealthily  as  an 
Indian  —  she  was  as  sly  as  a  cat,  any  way.  She  was  worn 
with  watching  and  anxiety,  and  these  things  were  hard  to 
bear;  but  no  one  ever  heard  her  answer  him  in  any  but 
the  kindest  tone,  or  knew  her  to  abate  one  jot  or  tittle  of 
her  tenderness  for  him. 

And  Ralph,  who  was  noble  and  large  hearted  in  the 
main,  appreciated  every  bit  of  it.  As  he  lay  there,  weak 
as  an  infant,  upon  the  bed,  and  watched  his  wife's  untiring 
care  and  never  failing  patience,  and,  perhaps,  thought 
how  she  herself  had  suffered  when  he  had  been  indifferent, 
or  even  had  made  light  of  her  sufferings,  she  seemed  to 
him  the  very  rose  and  queen  of  women.  The  love  of  his 
youth  stirred  in  his  veins,  and  he  registered  a  vow,  that 
if  ever  he  got  off  that  sick  bed  again,  she  should  never 
more  have  cause  to  complain  of  his  want  of  tenderness 
to  her. 


144  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

By  and  by,  he  was  able  to  sit  up  for  an  hour  or  two  at  t 
time  and  hear  her  read.  She  began  by  bringing  in  e 
newspaper  and  asking  if  she  should  read  him  the  money 
article.  He  raised  his  hand  impatiently. 

"No,  indeed,"  he  cried;  "I  can't  abide  that  stuff  yet. 
Laura,  didn't  you  once  say  that  you'd  like  to  read  'Maud' 
to  me.  We  shall  never  have  a  better  time  for  that  than 
now." 

She  read  "  Maud,"  and  that  only  led  the  way  to  other 
things.  They  got  among  the  magazines  and  re-read  her 
favorite  pieces,  love  stories  and  all,  till  at  last  they  got  to 
talking  love,  and  seemed  to  be  renewing  their  old  courting 
days. 

Ralph  somehow  felt  a  little  as  Rip  Van  Winkle  must 
have,  when  he  awoke  from  his  long  nap ;  for  it  was  a  great 
while  since  Ralph  had  thought  much  about  these  things. 
He  remembered  that  he  used  to  think  Laura's  taste  a  little 
immature  and  school-girlish;  he  wondered  now  to  find 
what  a  cultivated  woman  she  had  grown  to  be.  He  was 
really  proud  of  her,  and  felt  rather  ashamed  of  the  blun- 
ders into  which  his  unready  memory  sometimes  led  him. 

They  had  read  and  talked  in  this  way  one  evening  till 
the  twilight  overtook  them.  Outside  the  window  by 
which  they  had  been  sitting,  the  gray  wintry  landscape, 
whitened  here  and  there  by  the  first  snow  fall,  stretched 
away  to  the  horizon,  where  rosy  lights  and  purple  shadows, 
reflections  of  the  fading  sunset,  still  lingered.  Within, 
a  glowing  fire  in  the  grate  made  the  dusk  seem  tender 
and  cheerful.  Laura  was  sitting  very  close  to  her  husband, 
his  arm  about  her,  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  a  touch  of 
the  old  girlish  abandon  in  her  manner  that  stirred  his 
heart  with  delicious  memories.  Presently  he  felt  a  soft 
commotion  in  her  bosom,  and  then  a  tear  fell  on  his  hand, 
and  another,  and  another. 

"'Laura,  darling,"  he  asked,  "what  is  it?" 


A  WOMAN  6    SECRET.  145 

"God  is  so  good,"  she  whispered  softly,  "to  have  given 
me  back  my  husband." 

"Laura,"  he  said,  his  own  voice  trembling  now,  "keep 
fast  hold  of  him,  and  don't  let  him  leave  you  again.  I  feel 
as  the  apostles  did  when  they  beheld  the  transfiguration. 
'Let  us  build  tabernacles ;  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here.'  " 

By  and  by,  when  the  lamps  were  lighted,  the  doctor 
dropped  in.  He  looked  at  them  both ;  then  sat  down  and 
looked  into  the  fire,  and  whistled  softly;  no  tune  —  he 
never  whistled  any  tune  —  only  a  low,  wind-like  accom- 
paniment to  an  unspeakable  thought. 

"You'll  be  getting  out  to  business  soon,  I  suppose, 
Darrell?"he  said. 

"In  a  day  or  two,  perhaps.     I'm  in  no  hurry." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it ;  glad  to  hear  it." 

Another  pause.     Another  low  symphony  from  his  lips. 

"  Darrell,  you  have  been  talking  a  good  while  about  going 
to  Washington.  When  will  you  ever  find  a  better  time 
than  now ;  say,  in  a  week  or  two." 

"That  is  sensible,  doctor.  'Laura,  what  do  you  say? 
Can  you  be  ready  in  a  couple  of  weeks?  That  will  give 
me  time  to  go  down  to  the  oflice  and  look  matters  up  a 
little,  and  then,  if  I  find  them  all  right,  we'll  be  off.  What 
do  you  say?" 

Going  to  Washington  was  one  of  Laura's  day  dreams. 
To  have  it  come  true,  just  now,  of  all  times,  when  Ralph 
would  enjoy  it  with  her  so  much  more  than  usual,  seemed 
almost  too  good,  and  she  said  so. 

"No,  indeed,"  said  Ralph,  "  nothing  is  too  good  for  this 
time.  We'll  have  a  sort  of  second  honeymoon  out  of  it. 
I'm  going  to  be  a  better  man,  doctor.  I'm  not  going  to 
work  so  like  a  dog  any  more." 

"ITm,"  said  the  doctor ;  "take  your  honeymoon  .while 
you  are  in  the  fit  of  it.   I  have  seen  sick-room  repentances 
before." 
Q 


146  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"No;  but  it's  dead  earnest,  this  time,"  said  Ralph. 

"I  hope  so  —  I  hope  so,"  said  the  doctor.  "If  thereis 
anything  I  can  do,  Laura,  to  help  you  off,  let  me  know. 
You've  got  a  good  woman  to  leave  with  the  children,  and 
that  is  half  the  battle." 

"Indeed  it  is,"  said  Laura.  And  then,  after  a  moment's 
chat  about  family  matters,  the  doctor  left. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Darrell  were  gone  three  weeks  on  their 
journey.  They  came  back,  at  last,  looking  so  well,  so 
radiant,  so  youthful,  that  one  could  hardly  believe  they 
had  been  invalids  when  they  set  out. 

Rebecca,  thinking  of  her  vision  of  the  stars,  saw  how 
one  life  is  made  to  depend  upon  another  for  its  times  and 
its  seasons ;  how,  sometimes,  when  we  seem  to  be  standing 
still,  we  are  only  making  a  little  wider  circuit,  that  we 
may  catch  the  influence  of  some  grander  attraction,  or 
avoid  some  clash  of  spheres  fraught  with  unseen  peril. 

"For  what  do  I  wait?  "  she  wondered;  and  the  unseen 
spaces  echoed,  "Wait." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  147 


XV. 

» 

A   DEED   WITHOUT  A  NAME. 

Abraham  Gladstone  came  home  from  his  office,  one  day, 
and  found  his  wife  in  bed,  with  such  a  length  of  counte- 
nance and  general  aspect  of  immaculate  suffering  and 
martyred  virtue,  that  he  at  once  conjectured  what  was  the 
trouble.  In  her  determination  to  avoid  maternal  responsi- 
bilities, she  had  had  an  unusually  severe  struggle  with 
nature,  and  her  physical  powers  had  for  once  been  forced 
to  succumb. 

"My  dear,  are  you  ill?"  he  asked  kindly. 

"  I'm  not  quite  as  well  as  usual." 

"  Shall  I  call  the  doctor  ?  " 

"  By  no  means." 

"  But  you  look  very  much  exhausted,  and  it  seems  to  me 
you  have  some  fever." 

She  was  silent,  and  silence  with  her  was  never  consent. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you  will  find  any  dinner,"  she 
said.  "  Hepsey  is  not  good  for  much,  unless  she  has  some- 
body to  look  after  her." 

"Oh,  don't  worry  about  me.  What  shall  I  get  for 
you?" 

"Nothing." 

"  Not  a  little  gruel  ?  " 

"Such  stuff  as  Hepsey  could  make?" 

Abraham  began  to  take  the  hint. 

"  Perhaps  I  had  better  get  some  person  to  come  and  stay 
with  you  a  day  or  two.  It  don't  seem  to  me  that  you  will 
be  able  to  get  about  the  house  to-morrow." 

"  I  don't  know  of  any  one  whom  you  could  get." 

"  I  think  Mary  Crane  would  come." 


148  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

She  was  silent,  and  Abraham  bethought  himself  that 
Mary  was  a  very  coarse,  though  a  very  good  natured  woman. 

"  Mrs.  Gladstone  could  not  abide  coarseness.  But  whom 
to  find,  that  would  suit  her,  she  could  not  think.  Paragons 
of  skill  and  elegance  do  not  go  out  nursing  in  New  England 
villages,  as  a  general  thing. 

"I  really  don't  know,"  he  said  at  length,  "  of  anybody 
better  than  Mary." 

"Mrs.  Darrell  always  manages  to  get  good  help,"  said 
Mrs.  Gladstone  ;  "  but,  then,  she  has  money." 

"  I  have  heard  that  she  had  an  excellent  nurse-girl  now  ; 
but  I  am  afraid,  Melissa,  she  will  not  be  willing  to  part 
with  her.  One  does  not  like  to  be  unneighborly  about  those 
things,  you  know.  Perhaps  I  can  get  mother  to  come 
over  for  a  day  or  so."  • 

Melissa  said  nothing.  Mr.  Gladstone  knew,  without 
being  told,  that  Mrs.  Bowditch  was  one  of  those  women 
who  are  of  no  possible  use  in  a  sick  room,  but  rather  a 
nuisance,  so  he  did  not  urge  the  matter. 

When  he  came  home  at  night,  she  was  evidently  so  much 
worse,  that  he  no  longer  asked  her  permission,  but  sent  at 
once  for  the  doctor.  Mrs.  Gladstone  did  not  receive  him 
very  cordially,  but  the  doctor  had  his  own  ways  and  means 
of  arriving  at  knowledge. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  for  help?  "was  the  first 
'question  he  asked,  on  rejoining  Abraham  in  the  sitting- 
room.  "She'll  have  to  lie  where  she  is  for  a  month,  at  least, 
and  she'll  want  more  care  than  that  child  can  give  her." 

Abraham  saw  his  opportunity.  He  remembered  per- 
fectly the  impression  which  Rebecca  had  produced  upon 
him,  and  he  felt  some  personal  repugnance  to  exposing  the 
unhappiness  of  his  domestic  relations  to  a  woman  of  her 
delicate  perceptions ;  but  this  was  not  a  time  to  think  of 
himself. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  he  asked,  "  that  it  would  be  possible 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  149 

to  induce  Mrs.  Dan-ell  to  part  with  her  nurse  for  a  few 
weeks  ?  " 

The  doctor  was  sitting  by  the  fire.  He  looked  thought- 
ful, whistled  a  little,  rubbed  his  hands  together  slowly. 

"  I  —  don't  —  know,"  he  said  at  last.  "  What  made  you 
think  of  Rebecca?" 

"  Help  is  very  scarce,  you  know,  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  is 
very  particular.  She  has  heard  that  Rebecca,  if  that  is 
her  name,  is  an  excellent  and  trusty  woman,  and,  in  a  case 
like  this,  where  the  nurse  will  be  in  effect  housekeeper  also, 
it  is  of  consequence  to  have  a  faithful  person." 

"Rebecca  —  is — just — what — you  —  want.  I'll  speak 
to  Laura  about  it.  Can't  tell  what  she'll  say.  "Women 
are  set  in  their  ways.  I'll  speak  to  her." 

Abraham  expressed  his  sense  of  obligation,  and  the 
doctor  left. 

"If  that  woman  is  determined  to  kill  herself,"  solilo- 
quized the  doctor,  as  he  untied  the  old  gray,  "  I  don't 
know  as  I  can  help  it.  I  suppose  I  must  do  what  I  can,  but 
I'm  afraid  she  has  dipped  a  little  too  deep,  this  time.  She 
beats  Death  all  out,  and  Dr.  Hornbook  was  a  boy  to  her." 

This  was  just  at  the  time  of  the  January  thaw.  The 
roads  were  very  slushy,  and  the  doctor  had  driven  far  that 
day.  When  he  at  last  reached  home,  he  was  constrained 
to  see,  with  his  own  eyes,  that  the  old  gray  had  an  extra 
quart  of  oats,  and  a  good  bed. 

"  Not  that  Joel  ever  neglects  her,"  said  the  doctor.  "Joel 
is  faithful.  I  like  a  faithful  person ;  I  won't  have  anybody 
but  a  faithful  person  about  me,  if  I  can  help  it.  Joel  is 
faithful ;  but,  then,  I  sleep  better  if  I  see  to  these  things 
myself." 

As  he  went  about  his  work,  he  meditated  : 

"  Rebecca  needs  a  change.  She  is  getting  uneasy,  and 
it  is  natural  that  she  should.  She  ought  to  be  taking  a 
a  different  position  from  that  of  a  nurse-girl.  She  is  a  very 


150  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

capable  woman.  If  she  gets  out  into  the  world,  people 
will  find  it  out,  and  respect  her  accordingly.  She  had 
letter  go  to  Gladstone's." 

It  was  past  eight  o'clock  when  the  doctor  reached  Mrs. 
Dan-ell's  house,  to  do  the  promised  errand. 

The  children  were  out  of  the  way,  and  Ralph  and  Laura 
sat  in  their  pleasant  library ;  she  sewing,  he  reading  aloud, 
the  picture  of  domestic  comfort  and  happiness.  It  put 
the  doctor  in  his  best  humor  to  see  them. 

"Laura,"  he  said,  after  a  few  minutes  of  desultory  chat, 
"what  are  you  going  to  do  with  Maude  this  spring;  she 
looks  pale;  she's  studying  too  hard.  She  must  get  some 
let-up  some  way?" 

"I  know  she  is  studying  hard,  but  I  had  not  thought  it 
was  injuring  her,"  said  Laura. 

"Does  she  sleep  well  nights?" 

"I  believe  I  have  heard  her  complain  of  being  wakeful 
at  times." 

"Eat  her  breakfast  well?" 

"  She  takes  a  cup  of  coffee  and  slice  of  toast  usually ; 
not  always,  though." 

"Humph !"  said  the  doctor,  " I  thought  so.  A  red  spot 
on  her  cheek  about  all  the  time." 

"She's  growing  pretty  fast,  I  know,"  said  Laura, 
thoughtfully. 

"  She's  just  at  the  growing  age.  If  you  take  my  advice, 
you  Avon't  send  her  to  school  next  summer.  Keep  her  at 
home  a  few  months;  it  won't  hurt  her." 

"I  always  have  meant,"  said  Laura,  "to  give  Maude  a 
thorough  domestic  training,  but  what  with  her  studies  at 
school  and  her  imisic  at  home,  I  have  never  thought  she  had 
time  for  it. 

"Now  is  your  time,"  said  the  doctor.  "Light  exercise 
is  just  what  she  needs;  not  too  much  of  one  kind,  not  too 
long  continued,  but  exercise  enough  to  give  her  muscles 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  151 

play,  and  get  the  blood  down  from  her  brain.  She  has 
the  headache  now  every  day.  Don't  take  her  out  of 
school  quite  yet,  if  she  wants  to  finish  her  term ;  but  insist 
that  she  shan't  study  all  the  time.  Let  her  set  the  tea- 
table  and  undress  the  children ;  and  be  sure  that  she  has 
an  hour  of  good  air  and  some  kind  of  light  work  before 
breakfast  every  day.  She'll  eat  a  slice  of  meat  after  it." 

"  I  believe  we  are  all  getting  lazy,"  said  Mrs.  Barrel!, 
laughing,  "Rebecca  is  so  thoughtful  and  so  attentive  to 
all  the  details  of  her  work." 

"H'm,"  said  the  doctor,  "are  you  calculating  to  keep 
Rebecca  always?" 

Mrs.  Darrell  looked  up  a  little  curious.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  doctor's  tone  she  didnotquite  understand. 

"Because, "he  continued,  "I  know  a  man  that  wants 
to  get  her.  He  needs  her  more  than  you  do.  It  seems  to 
me  that  you  are  strong  enough  now,  so  that  with  a  little 
help  from  Maude,  you  could  get  on  with  Nancy  very  well. 
What  do  you  think?" 

"  Why,  if  Reba  can  do  better  than  to  stay  here,  I  shall 
be  very  willing;  but  I  shall  miss  her." 

"Now,  doctor,"  interposed  Ralph,  "that  is  notfair.  Ever 
since  we  have  kept  help  at  all,  we've  been  worried  to 
death  to  get  good  girls ;  and  now  that  we  have  got  one,  and 
have  her  wonted,  I  think  the  least  our  friends  can  do  is  to 
let  her  alone." 

The  doctor  whistled  a  little. 

"Abraham  Gladstone's  wife  is  very  sick,"  he  said;  "if 
she  don't  have  good  care — good  care,"  he  repeated,  "she 
won't  get  through  the  spring.  I  shouldn't  like  to  see  her 
get  a  cough  in  February.  It  would  look  bad  —  look  bad. 
I  think  Rebecca  can  do  more  good  there  than  she  can 
here." 

"  Oh,  if  it  is  a  case  of  sickness,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  "that 
is  another  thing." 


152  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  I  will  call  Reba,"  said  Mrs.  Darrell,  "  and  see  what  she 
says  about  it." 

A  strange  feeling  came  over  Rebecca,  as  she  listened  to 
the  proposition.  She  had  waited  so  long  for  a  broader 
outlook.  Was  this  the  answer  to  her  prayer?  To  attend 
a  sick  woman;  a  woman  who,  at  her  best,  had  been 
described  to  her  as  peculiar  and  unlovely;  who,  therefore, 
when  irritated  by  illness,  would  be  likely  to  be  peevish, 
fault-finding,  hard  to  please.  At  first  view,  she  was 
inclined  to  shrink.  But  the  inward  voice  which  we  all 
believe  in,  but  all  so  much  neglect,  whispered  an  admoni- 
tion, and  she  paused. 

"  I  have  deliberately  chosen  to  do  a  woman's  work  in 
the  world,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  to  cultivate  womanly 
excellencies,  to  achieve  womanly  triumphs.  What  fitter 
scene  for  all  these  than  the  sick  room?"  She  rendered 
her  decision  in  a  most  womanly  fashion.  Looking  up  to 
the  doctor,  who  stood,  ready  to  go,  waiting  only  her  word ; 
and  thinking  how  true  a  friend  he  had  been  to  her,  her 
nature  proved  its  loyalty. 

"  Shall  I  go  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  felt  the  confidence  implied,  and  answered  in  his 
gentlest  tone: 

"  I  think  you  had  better,  Rebecca." 

The  question  was  settled.  It  was  a  good  while  before 
Rebecca  composed  herself  to  sleep  that  night.  This 
change,  which  she  foresaw  must  be  followed  by  others, 
was  a  new  test  of  her  power  of  self-dependence. 

"  I  have  grown  to  feel  so  much  at  home  here,"  she  said 
to  herself.  "  A  woman  is,  in  these  material  things,  a  sort 
of  parasite,  after  all.  She  grows  by  what  she  clings  to. 
She  is  happy  or  not,  according  to  whether  her  conditions 
are  suited  to  her  nature,  and  that  nature  is,  in  a  great 
degree,  passive.  How  shall  I  find  a  change  to  agree  with 
me?  This  change  of  all." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  153 

II  seemed  doubtful,  but  when  the  word  of  the  Lord 
cam*-  to  Moses,  saying:  "  Go,  thou  and  my  people,"  there 
was  no  possibility  for  Israel  to  stay  behind.  So,  often  in 
our  lives  we  deliberate  most  over  just  those  courses  of 
conduct  which,  if  we  only  knew  it,  are  most  inevitable. 
The  consolation  is,  that  to  Him  who  controls  us,  all 
course?;  whether  through  the  wilderness  and  the  stony 
ground,  or  through  green  pastures  and  by  still  waters ; 
whether  down  the  dark  ravines  of  error,  or  over  the  sun- 
swept  movntains  of  vision,  lead  in  the  end  to  Him. 


154  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XVI. 

UKtf-PECKED. 

Mrs.  Gladstone's  face,  lying  upon  the  heavy  pillbws  of 
her  handsome  bed,  and  encircled  by  dainty  lace-trimmed 
ruffles,  had  a  pinched  and  meager  look,  that  was  pitiful 
to  behold.  She  suffered,  no  doubt;  it  could  not  be  other- 
wise ;  but  that  was  not  the  worst.  It  was  that  she  had  so 
little  womanly  faith>  and  patience,  and  fortitude  wherewith 
to  bear  her  suffering.  Her  life  had  been  spent  for  herself, 
and  not  for  others;  the  gratification  of  her  own  desires  had 
been  the  sole  end  and  aim  of  her  existence.  The  grand 
foundation  stones  of  justice,  honor,  truth  and  love,  were 
entirely  wanting  in  the  basis  of  her  character.  Therefore, 
the  weak,  unstable  fabric  which  she  had  reared  gaped 
and  tottered,  and  threatened  utter  ruin. 

Rebecca,  looking  at  her,  hearing  her  feeble  moan,  watch- 
ing her  suspicious  glances,  and  feeling  her  utter  want  of 
courage,  or  confidence,  or  trust,  said  to  herself: 

"May  God  forgive  me,  if  it  is  wrong,  but  I  cannot  do 
otherwise  than  pray  the  Pharisee's  prayer,  '  I  thank  God  I 
am  not  like  this  woman.'  Welcome  suffering,  welcome 
disgrace,  welcome  wearing  labor  for  my  daily  bread,  but 
never  let  me  experience  such  spiritual  poverty,  such  utter 
dearth  of  all  tenderness  and  faith.  " 

The  two  women  were  not  unlike,  in  some  of  their  char- 
acteristics. They  were  both  delicate  in  their  instincts, 
Vefined  in  their  tastes ;  they  had,  neither  of  them,  the 
strength  or  the  confidence  for  great  undertakings,  for  any- 
thing akin  to  masculine  enterprises ;  they  both  felt  more 
than  most,  even  of  women,  the  very  womanly  need  of 
being  cared  for,  and  placed  in  a  secure  position,  above 
the  sordid,  selfish  clashing  of  that  material  life  in  which 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  155 

men  are  the  proper  and  principal  actors.  But  there  was 
a  broad,  deep,  underlying  distinction  between  them.  The 
one  had  a  clear,  far-reaching,  spiritual  intuition  and  trust, 
the  other  was  scarcely  at  all  conscious  of  spiritual  light  or 
insight.  Spiritually,  she  was  as  feeble  and  purblind  as  a 
nine-days-old  kitten.  The  one  was  all  alive,  and  thrilling 
with  tenderness  and  pure  womanly  affection;  the  other 
was  emotionally  as  withered  and  dry  as  a  husk.  The 
one  had  been,  all  her  life,  the  sport  and  toy  of  suffering ; 
the  other  had  made  her  whole  life  a  constant  exaction  upon 
others,  and  had  gained  a  certain  sort  of  ease  and  luxury 
in  that  way.  With  spiritual  culture,  as  with  material,  it  is 
the  deep  subsoiling,  and  not  the  mere  surface-scratching, 
which  produces  rich  results. 

As  the  days  passed,  Mrs.  Gladstone's  condition  became 
less  and  less  encouraging. 

"  If  there  was  anything  to  build  on,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  we  could  do  something;  but  she  don't  seem  to  have  any 
constitution.  Medicine  don't  work  if  there  is  no  reactive 
power  in  the  system,  and  that  seems  to  be  pretty  much 
her  case." 

But  the  reactive  power  of  the  system,  what  is  it?  Is  it 
flesh,  or  blood,  or  bone,  or  is  it  the  spiritual  force  which 
gives  to  all  these  their  life  ?  Women,  as  a  general  thing, 
have  more  power  of  endurance  than  men ;  will  actually  live 
through  more  physical  suffering,  and  come  out  less  reduced 
in  the  end,  because  they  have  deeper  faith,  and  patience, 
and  courage,  and  love.  This  woman  was  an  exception, 
just  because  she  lacked  these  womanly  qualities.  There- 
fore she  lay  upon  her  bed,  white,  passive,  helpless ;  the 
vital  forces  slowly  spending  themselves,  and  no  grand, 
rousing,  noble  instincts  in  her,  no  thought  of  husband  or 
children,  of  good  deeds  that  must  be  done,  of  sad  souls 
that  needed  her  ministrations,  to  turn  the  tide. 

Mrs.  Bowditch  came  in  every  day  to  see  her.     She  some- 


156  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

times  brought  her  knitting,  always  her  snuff  box,  and  the 
latter,  at  least,  Avas  kept  in  pretty  constant  requisition. 
As  she  sat  by  the  bedside,  a  little,  dry,  withered,  yellow 
woman,  with  black,  bead-like  eyes,  a  tawdry  cap,  and  a 
shabby,  faded  gown,  that  had  once  been  showy,  if  not 
elegant,  she  was  the  best  possible  explanation  of  her  daugh- 
ter's condition,  both  physical  and  mental. 

"It's  a  dreadful  thing,  Melissa,  for  you  to  be  sick  this 
way.  I  can't  see  what  Providence  means  by  it.  Here's 
your  household  left  to  the  care  of  strangers,  and  every- 
thing going  to  rack  and  ruin,  I  hav'n't  the  leastest  doubt, 
and  you  getting  no  better.  I  must  say,  I  think  it  is  a  very 
mysterious  dispensation." 

Melissa  moved  uneasily  in  her  bed,  and  moaned. 

"Where's  Echo?"  she  asked. 

"  I  sent  Hepsey  out  in  the  yard  with  him,  to  give  him  a 
little  air.  I  thought  he  had  been  mewed  up  here  with  you 
long  enough.  Hepsey'll  be  careful  of  him,  for  I  told  her 
if  she  wasn't,  I'd  punish  her." 

"What  is  Rebecca  doing?" 

"  Oh !  she's  seeing  to  the  ironing.  Do  you  know,  I 
don't  like  her  ways  a  bit.  She  hasn't  folded  the  clothes 
anyways  as  I  should,  and  I  told  her  so.  The  pillow  cases 
never'll  be  done  up  to  suit  you." 

Melissa  groaned  feebly,  almost  inaudibly,  and  turned 
her  face  to  the  wall. 

"And  what  do  you  think,"  the  old  lady  went  on,  "when 
she  was  out  there  this  morning,  tending  to  your  bi-eakfast, 
I  heard  her  telling  Hepsey  a  story.  Think  of  that !  'Twas 
a  fairy  story,  or  something  of  that  kind.  They're  thicker'n 
hops,  now,  and  by  the  time  you  get  about  the  house  again, 
things  will  be  to  a  pretty  pass.  Why,  how  red  your  cheeks 
are.  Ain't  you  getting  a  fever?" 

At  this  instant  Rebecca  came  in  from  the  kitchen.  Her 
quick  eye  noticed  at  once  the  change  in  the  patient. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  157 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  gently,  "  that  you  have  been 
talking  too  much.  Perhaps  she  had  better  be  left  alone  for 
a  little  while,  Mrs.  Bowditch,  as  the  doctor  was  very  par- 
ticular about  her  being  kept  quiet.  I  will  bathe  her  head, 
and  then  I  think  she  will,  maybe,  be  able  to  sleep." 

There  was  something  in  Rebecca's  mild,  but  firm  way  of 
speaking,  that  inspired  respect;  and  Mrs.  Bowditch,  with 
no  further  demonstration  than  a  slight  toss  of  the  head, 
withdrew  to  the  sitting-room.  Hitherto  Rebecca's  pres- 
ence had  insensibly  produced  a  very  quieting  effect  upon 
Mrs.  Gladstone's  nerves,  but  to-day  the  spell  seemed  to 
have  departed.  The  more  she  tried  to  soothe  and  make 
her  comfortable,  the  more  uneasy  the  patient  seemed  to 
grow;  till  at  length  she  refrained  from  effort,  and  arranging 
the  curtains  so  as  to  deepen  the  shadows  of  the  already 
darkened  room,  she  went  out. 

When  Mr.  Gladstone  came  in  from  the  office,  and  opened 
the  door  softly,  he  found  that  she  was  still  awake,  and 
approached  the  bed  to  speak  to  her. 

Whatever  of  coldness  or  impatience  Abraham  might 
have  felt  toward  his  wife  at  various  times  had  vanished, 
now  that  she  lay  helpless  and  suffering  before  him.  With 
all  the  delicacy,  and  tenderness,  and  susceptibility  to  injury 
or  shock,  which  inhere  in  true  conjugal  love,  there  is  also 
a  tenacity,  an  indestructibility  of  fiber,  which  of  itself 
furnishes  a  stronger  argument  than  any  array  of  social 
facts  and  statistics  against  license,  in  the  matter  of  annul- 
ling the  marriage  bond.  His  wife  was  the  love  of  his 
youth.  About  her  all  the  rosy  sentiment  and  the  airy 
aspirations  of  his  early  days  had  clustered.  In  all  the  trials 
of  his  manhood,  she  had  been — in  a  poor,  meager  way,  it 
is  true,  but  still  she  had  been  —  a  sharer.  If,  in  the  wear 
and  tear  of  life,  some  portions  of  the  tender  romance,  or 
even  of  the  manly  respect  which  he  had  cherished,  had 
worn  away,  there  was  still  left  an  early  memory  that  was 


158  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

very  potent.  It  might  slumber  while  she  was  well  and 
active,  and  walked  on  her  way  beside  him,  not  apparently 
needing  so  much  of  him,  as  he  of  her;  but  now  that  she 
was  ill  and  helpless,  and  so  sad  and  hopeless,  too,  there 
seemed  an  awakening  of  the  old  tenderness;  and  he  loved 
her  as  he  had  not  been  conscious  of  doing  in  all  the  years 
of  her  health  and  buoyancy. 

"Melissa,"  he  said,  stooping  to  kiss  her,  "how  do  you 
feel  to-day?" 

"No  better,  I'm  afi-aid,"  she  said. 

"Why,  you  even  seem  worse,  I  think.  Has  anything 
happened?" 

"Not  much.  I  wish,  Abraham,  you'd  count  the  spoons 
to-day,  and  see  that  there's  none  missing." 

"  Oh  !  yon  needn't  be  troubled  about  that,  dear. 
Rebecca  is  very  faithful.  I'm  sure  nobody  could  do 
better  than  she  does,  except,  of  course,  yourself.  I  hope 
it  will  not  be  many  weeks  till  you  can  take  her  place ;  but 
till  then  I'm  sure  you  needn't  have  a  thought  about  the 
house." 

"You've  seen  very  little  of  her  yet." 

"But  then  Mrs.  Darrell  recommended  her  very  highly." 

"She  hadn't  the  chance  there  that  she  has  here." 

"Well,  dear,  I'll  count  the  silver,  and  I'll  do  everything 
I  can  to  see  that  things  go  on  right,  only  don't  you  fret. 
It  is  worse  for  you  than  anything  else." 

She  turned  her  face  to  the  wall,  and  closed  her  eyes. 
He  sat  by  her,  fanning  her  gently,  and  thinking — what? 
Who  knows  what  a  man  thinks,  when  he  patiently  tries 
to  love  what  is  not  lovely;  when  he  strives  to  embrace  a 
shadow;  to  take  to  his  heart  of  hearts  a  vapor?  Yet,  in 
this  case,  the  persistence  had  about  it  something  that  was 
infinitely  tender  and  touching. 

Abraham  went  out  into  the  kitchen  after  dinner,  and 
said  to  Reba : 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  159 

"Rebecca,  Mrs.  Gladstone,  like  any  good  housekeeper, 
—  and  she  always  was  a  good  housekeeper,  you  can  see 
that  yourself — gets  nervous  about  the  way  things  are 
going.  Hepsey  is  careless ;  girls  of  her  age  all  are,  and 
it  isn't  exactly  your  place  to  see  to  things  —  at  least,  you 
can  hardly  be  expected  to  do  everything;  and  would  you 
mind  if  I  looked  over  the  silver  basket,  just  to  set  her 
mind  easy.  I  assure  you  I  don't  care  a  straw  about  it 
myself." 

Rebecca  felt  that  he  was  sincere  in  what  he  said,  and 
yielded  with  alacrity.  She  was  a  little  puzzled  about  Mr. 
Gladstone.  Mrs.  Gladstone,  indeed,  was  a  very  dark 
riddle  to  her.  Day  by  day,  as  she  settled  some  one  thing 
in  regard  to  her,  the  experience  of  the  next  day  unsettled 
it.  If  a  three  thousand  year  old  mummy  should  come  to 
life  in  this  nineteenth  century,  in  the  midst  of  one  of  oui 
highly  civilized  homes,  it  might  be  a  good  while  before  — 
indeed,  it  is  doubtful  if  ever,  the  inmates  of  that  home 
would  come  to  an  exact  understanding  of  the  soul  thu> 
revealed.  Just  so  dark,  so  mysterious,  so  utterly  removed 
from  the  plane  of  her  own  experience  or  sympathy,  did 
Mrs.  Gladstone  seem  to  Rebecca.  But  Mr.  Gladstone. 
That  was  another  matter. 

He  was  a  handsome  man,  to  begin  with;  a  most  power- 
ful and  manly  looking  man,  with  a  frank,  open  face,  a 
pleasant,  smiling  eye,  a  chivalrous  demeanor;  he  had, 
evidently,  good  natural  abilities  and  more  than  average 
cultivation.  And  yet,  dark  mystery  that  it  was  how 
such  a  thing  could  be,  it  seemed  to  her  to  grow,  day  by 
day,  more  certain  that  he  was  —  that  baleful  thing  —  a 
hen-pecked  husband. 

Here  and  now  I  make  a  stand  in  favor  of  hen-pecked 
husbands,  and  aver  that  the  number  of  them  is  greater 
than  the  world  supposes.  I  insist  that  the  man  who  is 
hen-pecked,  is  usually  so  because  of  some  tender,  loyal, 


160  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

chivalrous  trait;  some  faint,  spiritual  insight,  by  which  he 
recognizes  the  dignity  of  the  ideal  woman,  and  will  by  no 
means,  in  ever  so  gentle  a  way,  lay  violent  hands  on  its 
weakest  representative.  Such  men,  under  favorable  cir- 
cumstances, make  the  noblest  and  truest  of  husbands. 
Therefore,  I  say  that  the  woman  who  aspires  to  usurp 
noticeable  and  unseemly  authority  over  her  husband, 
wounds  not  the  honor  of  the  male  sex  so  deeply  as  that 
of  her  own,  and  ought  always  and  everywhere  to  be  held, 
by  women  especially,  in  righteous  abomination. 

In  Mr.  Gladstone,  Rebecca  saw  the  noblest  and  man- 
liest qualities ;  yet,  seeing  also  this  other  fact  of  how 
he  was  led  by  the  nose  by  this  weak,  shrewish  wife 
of  his,  she  contracted  a  very  stiff  little  prejudice  against 
him. 

"I  suppose,"  she  thought  to  herself,  "he  will  be  delving 
among  the  pots  and  kettles  every  day  of  his  life,  and 
there  will  be  no  peace  in  the  kitchen,  unless  all  my  lady's 
whims  are  duly  observed  there.  Very  well,  if  he  is  used 
to  that  system,  I  am  not;  and  it  is  just  possible  that  there 
may  be  a  collision  some  day." 

But  it  was  not  about  the  pots  and  kettles  that  the  col- 
lision came. 

Mrs.  Gladstone  feeling  in  the  humor  for  sleep  one  morn- 
ing during  the  hour  of  Mrs.  Bowditch's  regular  visitation, 
that  lady  took  her  knitting-work  into  the  kitchen,  where 
Rebecca  was  attending  to  the  dinner.  Mrs.  Bowditch 
was  in  a  sociable  mood. 

"  You  never  told  me,"  she  said  to  Reba,  "  where  you 
came  from." 

"  I  was  born  in  Pennsylvania,"  replied  Reba,  after  a  little 
hesitation. 

"Was  you,  now  ?  Why,  I've  got  friends  in  Pennsylvania, 
too.  But  it's  a  big  State.  What  part  of  Pennsylvania 
did  you  come  from? 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  161 

"  The  eastern  part." 

"  Why,  that's  just  where  my  friends  live.  Was  it  near 
Philadelphia?" 

"  Rather.     Where  did  you  say  your  friends  lived  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I've  got  'em  all  about  in  those  parts.  You  see, 
my  mother  was  a  Strouse,  and  my  father's  name  was  Hand, 
and  the  Strouses  and  the  Hands  are  all  scattered  over  that 
country ;  especially  the  Strouses.  Now,  if  you  can  tell 
me  where  you  lived,  it's  ten  to  one  but  I  know  somebody 
in  the  same  town." 

"  I  was  born  in  Pennsylvania,  as  I  said,  but  my  parents 
moved  away  from  there  when  I  was  about  two  years  old." 

"  Oh-h !  "  said  Mrs.  Bowditch,  "  then  you  never  lived  in 
Pennsylvania." 

Heretofore,  Mrs.  Bowditch  had  been  simply  garrulous ; 
from  this  moment  she  became  inquisitive  ;  if  this  woman 
had  any  secret,  it  would  go  hard,  but  she  would  have  a  twist 
at  it.  She  must  go  to  work  cautiously  and  systematically. 

"  Where  did  you  come  from,  when  you  came  here  ?  " 

"  From  New  York." 

"  Have  you  got  friends  there  ?  " 

Rebecca  was  getting  annoyed,  and  found  it  convenient 
to  get  away  from  this  unscrupulous  inquisition. 

"  I  think,  Mrs.  Bowditch,  you  will  have  to  excuse  me  for 
a  little  while.  I  believe  there  is  nothing  here  now  but  what 
Hepsey  can  see  to,  and  I  have  a  bit  of  sewing  up  stairs, 
which  must  be  done  as  I  get  the  opportunity." 

So  saying,  she  left  the  room. 

"  Humph !  "  said  Mrs.  Bowditch,  "  I  understand  all  that. 
But  she  need  not  think  she  can  get  away  from  me  so.  No 
need  to  worry ;  there'll  be  other  days." 

However,  when  Mr.  Gladstone  came  in  to  dinner,  Mrs. 
Bowditch  found  an  opportunity  to  say  to  him : 

"Abraham,  do  you  know  who  that  woman  is,  in  the 
kitchen?" 
OS 


162  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"No,"  he  replied,  carelessly,  "I'm  sure  I  don't  know- 
any  more  about  her  than  what  I  see.  She  seems  to  be  a 
faithful,  efficient  woman,  of  better  breeding  than  most  of 
her  class." 

"Yes,  but  who  is  she?  that's  the  question.  Honest 
folks  don't  mind  telling  where  they  come  from." 

Mr.  Gladstone  knew  too  well  the  disposition  of  his 
mother-in-law,  not  to  be  certain  that  she  had  been  teazing 
Rebecca  with  questions ;  and  he  had  now  and  then  caught 
a  ray  from  Rebecca's  brown  eyes  which  made  him  certain 
that  she  was  not  a  person  to  be  annoyed  with  entire 
impunity.  Therefore,  he  only  thought,  with  a  smile,  that 
the  old  lady  had  met  a  retort  that  chagrined  her,  and  so 
dismissed  the  matter.  But  the  pertinacity  of  this  kind  of 
woman  is  something  wonderful  to  behold. 

After  dinner  she  went  directly  to  Melissa. 

"Mellie,"  she  said,  "do  you  know,  I've  good  reason  for 
thinking  this  woman  you've  got  is  no  better  than  she 
ought  to  be.  Think  of  that,  and  you  sick,  and  Abraham 
exposed  to  temptation." 

It  was  just  the  kind  of  shot  to  tell  with  immense  effect 
upon  a  woman  of  Melissa's  temperament.  At  night  Abra- 
ham was  called  into  the  sick  room,  to  endure  a  severe 
cross  questioning. 

Who  was  this  woman  —  where  did  she  come  from  — 
what  character  had  she  hitherto  borne  ?  To  all  of  which 
Abraham  could  only  answer  that  he  did  not  know,  and  did 
not  like  to  ask. 

"Just  set  your  mind  at  rest,  Melissa,"  he  said.  "  I'm  a 
better  judge  of  women  than  your  mother,  and  I'll  answer 
for  this  one,  that  she  is  all  right." 

Melissa  turned  her  face  to  the  wall,  and  gave  a  small 
groan. 

"  Well,"  asked  Abraham,  a  Httle  impatiently,  "what  am 
I  to  do  about  it?" 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  163 

Melissa  was  still  silent. 

"  If  the  woman  is  averse  to  answering  questions,  I  don't 
want  to  make  a  pettifogger  of  myself,  and  bore  her  to 
death." 

Still  no  answer,  and  Abraham,  in  despair,  left  the  room. 
But  when  he  came  back  at  bedtime,  it  was  no  better. 
Melissa  was  still  speechless,  and  the  air  was  fragrant  with 
abused  innocence.  Abraham  had  formed  a  little  resolu- 
tion of  his  own,  however,  and  tried  the  virtue  of  silence 
himself. 

The  next  morning  Melissa  was  decidedly  worse.  She 
had  a  fainting  fit,  and  came  out  of  it  only  to  go  into  hys- 
terics; and  what  with  fanning  her,  and  bathing  her  head 
with  cologne,  and  opening  the  window  for  air,  and  shutting 
it,  for  fear  of  a  draught,  he  did  not  get  to  his  office  at  all; 
by  which  means  some  very  important  business  was  neg- 
lected. It  went  on  much  after  this  fashion  for  a  week. 
At  last  Abraham  relented  a  little  in  his  manner.  Mrs. 
Gladstone  saw  that  he  was  brought  to  terms,  but  it 
required  three  days  more  of  sinking  turns  and  hysterics, 
before  she  judged  him  to  be  sufficiently  punished  for  his 
contumacy. 

Rebecca  was  a  silent  witness  of  the  whole  process. 

"Well,"  she  thought  to  herself,  "if  men  like  this  kind 
of  women  —  women  who  are  not  strong  minded;  women 
who  do  not  talk  ;  who  are  leaning  in  their  disposition,  viny 
women,  clinging  to  oaks,  that  is,  men,  for  support — I  do  not 
know  any  good  reason  why  they  should  not  have  them.  I 
wish  them  much  joy  of  them.  If  I  was  a  man,  I  think  I 
should  quite  as  lief  have  a  wife  that  could  stand  alone." 

And  then  came  that  deeper,  sadder  feeling,  which  every 
true  woman  experiences,  when  she  sees  ruin  of  the  noblest 
attributes.  Why  will  men  persist  in  setting  the  standard 
of  female  excellence  so  low  ?  Why  will  they  keep  the  whole 
Bex  so  in  leading  strings  that  they  cannot  rise  into  their 


164  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

native  proportions,  and  be  the  blessing  to  themselves  and 
to  men,  which  their  Creator  designed  them  to  be? 

The  result  of  this  application  of  Melissa's  tendrils  to 
her  supporting  oak  was,  that  Abraham  came  out  into  the 
sitting-room,  one  evening,  where  Rebecca  was  sewing,  and 
sat  down  with  a  look  of  fixed  determination  in  his  face, 
which,  however,  he  tried  to  veil  with  an  appearance  of 
indifference. 

Rebecca  had  not  ceased  to  be  curious  concerning  this 
man,  and  feeling  instinctively  that  he  was  of  too  noble  a 
nature  to  be  a  dangerous  inquisitor,  she  put  up  no  arbitrary 
barriers  between  them,  but  strove  rather  to  beguile  him 
into  easy  and  unrestrained  conversation.  Mr.  Gladstone 
very  soon  felt  himself  yielding  to  her  quietly  genial 
influence,  but  he  was  not  the  man  to  lose  sight  of  his 
purpose,  however  difficult  her  refined  and  lady-like  manner 
might  make  his  prosecution  of  it. 

"  So  you  don't  like  Wyndham,"  he  said,  in  answer  to 
some  faint  criticism  which  his  questions  had  drawn  forth. 
"I  suppose  it  is  a  sharp  change  from  that  rolling,  easy- 
going country  around  Philadelphia.  I  think  some  one 
told  me  you  were  from  that  section  of  the  country." 

"Oh!"  she  said,  "I  am  already  a  cosmopolite,  and 
view  nothing  by  comparison.  Wyndham  is  to  me  to-day 
as  if  I  had  lived  in  it  always." 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said,  a  little  incredulously,  "but  you 
seem  young  to  have  divested  yourself  of  all  local  sympa- 
thies and  attachments." 

"When  one  can  look  back  upon  no  past,"  she  said, 
"that  is  not  associated  with  sadness  and  sorrow,  one 
divorces  one's  self  easily  from  recollection." 

"  Again  I  must  disagree  with  you,"  he  said.  "  Afflic- 
tions, I  think,  oftentimes  sanctify  our  memory  of  places; 
we  go  back  to  past  sorrows  with  more  tenderness  than  to 
joys  that  are  past." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  165 

"  Yes,  but  they  must  be  innocent  sorrows;  afflictions 
which  we  can  naturally  refer  to  the  will  of  Heaven,  and 
not  to  the  injustice  of  men." 

He  looked  at  her  in  silence.  She  was  very  young  to 
utter  sentiments  like  these;  her  face  was  too  pure,  too 
delicately  conscientious,  to  be  naturally  associated  with 
wrong  doing.  She  seemed  too  incapable  of  guile  to  have 
provoked  injury  from  any  being.  "  It  is  some  family 
trouble,"  he  said  to  himself,  "into  which  I  should  be  a 
brute  to  pry."  And  in  the  light  of  this  thought,  the 
mandate  of  the  weak  woman  in  the  bed-room  beyond  lost 
its  force. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  that  all  trouble,  even  injustice, 
comes  indirectly  from  Heaven,  and  must  have,  in  some 
way,  its  redeeming  quality.  At  least,  I  have  tried  to  think 
so." 

"  It  would  make  wreck  of  my  religious  faith,"  she  said, 
"to  believe  that  all  the  wrong-doing  of  men  came  within 
the  scope  of  God's  providence  toward  His  children.  I 
could  not  trust  in  Him  as  a  righteous  God  and  father,  if 
I  thought  that  he  made  use  of  evil  in  any  such  way.  If 
He  makes  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  him,  I  think  it  must 
be  by  the  utter  overthrow  and  extirpation  of  wrong- 
doers." 

She  manifested  more  energy  than  he  had  ever  observed 
in  her  before,  and  there  was  a  thrilling  pathos  in  her  tones 
which  came  directly  from  her  heart.  His  consciousness 
lingered  over  the  words  as  they  were  spoken ;  his  memory 
received  them  indelibly;  the  time  came,  years  after,  when 
he  would  have  given  half  he  possessed  to  have  fathomed 
accurately  their  full  force  and  meaning.  As  for  Rebecca, 
the  years  brought  her  insight,  and  set  straight  many  of 
her  distorted  notions  of  God's  providence.  The  very 
crimes  which  then  moved  so  deeply  and  so  justly  her  fiery 
indignation,  she  lived  to  see  bearing  the  fruit  which  God 


166  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

had  ordained ;  bread  of  life  to  the  sufferer,  and  apples  ol 
Sodom  to  the  doer. 

When  the  conversation  was  concluded,  Abraham  sat  for 
a  few  minutes  in  thought.  A  soul  of  no  ordinary  scope 
and  beauty  had  been  partially  revealed  to  him.  Not  that 
this  woman  was  perfect;  on  the  contrary,  she  was  full  of 
tender,  womanly  weaknesses.  He  felt  himself  stronger, 
and  in  the  way  of  worldly  wisdom,  infinitely  wiser  than 
she ;  but  there  was,  nevertheless,  a  charm  of  purity,  of 
insight,  of  heavenly  wisdom  about  her,  which  transcended 
him,  and  which  he  held  in  reverence.  Should  he  make 
himself  an  inquisitor  concerning  the  evidently  painful 
details  of  her  life.  No,  not  for  a  kingdom.  The  truth 
about  her  was  something  which  he  was  as  far  as  possible 
from  susp'ecting;  but  if  he  had  known  it  all,  he  would 
have  felt  not  less,  but  more  pity  and  admiration  for  her. 

He  went  back  to  his  wife  and  said:  "Melissa,  I  have 
asked  all  the  questions  that  I  shall.  There  is  evidently 
something  which  the  woman  wishes  to  conceal,  but  I  am 
more  than  ever  satisfied  that  she  is  a  virtuous  and  trust- 
worthy person.  I  think  you  have  only  this  choice  to 
make:  to  discharge  her  at  once  and  no  more  words  about 
it,  or  to  make  up  your  mind  to  let  her  alone.  You  cannot 
find  any  one  else  that  will  serve  you  half  as  satisfactorily 
as  she  does ;  but  it  seems  to  be  worth  a  good  deal  to  you 
to  have  your  mind  at  rest,  and  if  you  wish  I  will  go  and 
engage  Mary  Crane  at  once." 

But  Melissa  did  not  wish  it.  She  knew  very  well  that 
she  could  not  get  along  with  Mary  Crane.  She  chose  to 
keep  Rebecca,  and  to  vent  her  spleen  and  jealousy  upon 
her  in  every  small,  irritating,  vexatious  way  that  she 
could.  Mr.  Gladstone  knew  it,  but  he  knew  also  that  she 
was  slowly  dying,  and  the  fact  softened  his  mind  to  many 
of  her  mental  infirmities.  To  manifest  any  sympathy  for 
Rebecca,  was  only  to  intensify  the  trials  of  her  position ; 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  167 

and  he  refrained  from  doing  so,  believing  that  the  deep 
and  true  respect  which  he  entertained  for  her,  expressed 
itself  most  forcibly,  under  the  circumstances,  by  a  wise 
and  firm  reticence. 


168  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XVII. 

FROM   JERUSALEM   TO   JERICHO. 

February  came,  and  Mrs.  Gladstone  did  get  a  cough. 
Rebecca's  position,  by  this  time,  had  grown  almost  insup- 
portable. Should  she  give  it  up,  that  was  the  question. 
Mr.  Gladstone,  partly  because  his  wife  was  jealous,  and 
partly  because  she  was  slowly  dying  before  his  eyes,  and 
the  sight  recalled  all  the  tenderness  of  his  youth,  and 
compelled  him  to  be,  spite  of  her  caprice  and  unrea- 
sonableness, absorbed  utterly  in  the  slow  going  out  of 
her  life,  was  entirely  indifferent  to  her.  But  Mrs.  Bow- 
ditch,  with  the  spider-like  industry  of  a  small  mind,  had 
set  the  village  alive  with  talk  about  this  woman,  whom 
nobody  knew;  who  could  or  would  give  no  account  of 
herself;  till  every  neighbor  who  happened  into  the  house, 
every  friend  who  came  from  afar  to  visit  the  dying  woman, 
even  the  very  minister  who  called  to  console  her  last  hours, 
looked  askance  at  Rebecca,  and  saw  in  her,  or  thought 
they  saw,  some  evil. 

The  doctor  carried  a  sad  face  all  these  days.  He  had 
been  down  to  New  York  in  the  fall,  as  was  his  usual 
custom.  He  had  not  been  able  to  see  Mr.  Marston,  that 
gentleman  being  out  of  town;  but  certain  inquiries  which 
he  had  made  in  another  direction,  made  it  probable  that, 
whenever  he  did  see  him,  he  might  gain  the  information 
which  he  sought.  For  this  reason  the  doctor,  without  at 
all  losing  his  interest  in  Rebecca,  felt  impelled  by  the 
grave  interests  at  stake  to  proceed  with  caution. 

This  gossip  about  her,  therefore,  was  doubly  painful  to 
him.  Rebecca's  sad  eyes,  unconsciously  to  herself, 
reproached  him  each  time  that  he  saw  her ;  and  he  felt  a 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  169 

tender  and  manly  longing  to  stand  by  her,  and  protect  her 
at  all  and  every  hazard.  Indeed,  the  greatest  comfort  of 
Rebecca's  life,  at  that  time,  was  the  daily  visit  of  the 
doctor;  for  he  never  left  her  without  a  kind  inquiry,  or  a 
pitying  glance,  or  a  comforting  pressure  of  the  hand. 
Ah!  these  men  who  know  a  woman  thoroughly  —  all  her 
weak  points,  all  her  tender  susceptibilities  —  are,  of  all 
others,  most  dangerous  to  her  peace  of  mind. 

But  the  doctor  could,  at  best,  only  show  his  good  will. 
As  he  said,  "people  will  talk;"  and  Rebecca,  being  very 
human,  felt  the  talk  keenly.  On  the  other  hand,  what 
was  duty  ?  Mrs.  Gladstone  was  dying.  She  suffered  a 
great  deal  every  day  and  every  hour;  she  needed  kind 
and  faithful  nursing  —  knew  that  she  needed  it;  knew 
that  there  was  no  one  within  her  reach  who  could  supply 
Rebecca's  place,  and,  in  some  silent,  dumb  way,  she 
expressed  this  dependence,  even  while  she  was  jealous  of 
the  object  of  it.  It  seems  very  strange  the  hold  these 
weak,  helpless  natures  have  upon  nobler  ones.  I  know 
of  no  way  of  accounting  for  it,  except  by  referring  it  to 
nature's  care  for  her  feeblest  works ;  but  so  it  was,  that 
Mrs.  Gladstone's  helpless  clinging  was  a  cord  strong 
enough  to  bind  Rebecca,  as  it  bound  her  husband,  to  the 
most  unreasoning  docility.  She  bore,  out  of  pity,  not 
unmixed  with  contempt,  what  she  would  never  have 
borne  from  one  she  felt  to  be  her  equal. 

Again  and  again  Mrs.  Darrell  offered  her  the  refuge  of 
her  old  place  with  her;  again  and  again  she  refused  it. 
"  They  may  abuse  me,  if  they  like,"  she  said,  "  but  they 
need  me,  and  I  shall  stay  as  long  as  I  can  do  them  any 
good.  One  thing,  however,  you  can  do  for  me.  If  you 
hear  of  any  good  place  which  you  think  I  can  fill,  secure 
it  for  me  against  the  time  I  shall  need  it."  And  Mrs 
Darrell  promised. 

The  winter  wore  away,  and  spring  came.  March,  at 
H 


170  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

least,  which  wears  a  name  it  never  truly  won.  Mrs.  Glad 
stone  had  been  sinking  very  fast  in  what  is  called  "a 
decline ;"  a  sort  of  rapid  consumption.  It  was  doubtful 
now  if  she  would  not  go  out  before  the  first  violets 
came  in. 

One  windy  March  day  her  pastor  came;  for,  recently, 
since  the  spiritual  world  had  seemed  to  be  so  swiftly 
bearing  down  upon  her,  the  feeble  soul  had  put  forth 
some  faint  feelers  toward  it,  and  cherished  a  trembling 
hope  which  stretched  out  into  the  great  Hereafter.  He 
conversed  with  her  solemnly  and  tenderiy,  prayed  with  her, 
and  finally  left  her. 

After  he  had  gone,  her  husband  sat  by  her  bedside, 
fanning  her. 

"Abraham,"  she  said  faintly  —  her  voice  was  almost  a 
whisper  now — "there  is  one  thing  more  I  would  like  to 
speak  about.  What  will  become  of  my  things  —  my 
dresses?" 

"I  shall  do  whatever  you  direct  with  them,"  said  Mr. 
Gladstone. 

"  I  don't  care  so  much  for  any  of  them  but  my  blue  silk 
with  the  flounce.     I  should  like  to  know  who  is  going  to 
have  that.     I  never  wore  it  but  once,  you  know." 
"Whom  would  you  like  to  have  it?" 
"  I  don't  know.     I'll  think  about  it." 
She  had  no  sister,  no  daughter,  no  friend.     Her  mother 
was   in   mourning.      Who,  indeed,    should    inherit    that 
darling  treasure? 

It  was,  perhaps,  a  week  later.  She  had  wasted  rapidly; 
it  was  very  evident  that  the  end  was  near.  All  day  she 
had  been  watched,  lest  her  life  should  go  out  unknown  to 
them,  and  now  it  was  far  into  the  night.  There  had  been 
nothing  more  said  about  the  blue  silk  dress,  and  Abraham, 
thinking  over  all  the  last  things  that  oiight  to  be  said,  was 
some  way  reminded  of  it. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  171 

"Melissa,"  he  said,  "you  have  never  told  me  what  you 
wanted  done  with  your  blue  silk  dress." 

She  gave  no  answer  but  a  feeble  moan,  and  turned  her 
face  to  the  wall  —  for  the  last  time.  A  half  hour  later,  a 
slight  tremor  ran  over  her  frame,  and  before  they  could 
raise  her  head,  the  spirit  had  departed. 

I  think  God's  angels  caught  up  that  soul  out  of  tho 
great  dark  into  which  it  was  exhaled,  and  bore  it  with  trem- 
bling pity  into  the  Eternal  Presence.  She  had  lived  through 
the  earth-life,  but  had  gathered  so  few  of  its  blessings.  She 
had  dwelt  in  the  regions  of  blindness  and  selfish  bewilder- 
ment, and  had  never  known  the  finer  air  and  purer  light 
of  that  upper  country,  where  love  and  right-doing  make, 
even  on  earth,  so  cheerful  a  Beulah.  Tenderness,  boun- 
tifulness,  aspiration,  faith,  what  were  they  but  words  to 
her.  Ah !  surely  for  such  souls  as  these,  more  than  for 
earth's  stricken  ones,  do  the  angels  drop  pitying  tears. 

When  she  was  gone,  a  great  sense  of  freedom  swept 
through  the  house.  Abraham  felt  it,  almost  before  she 
was  buried.  He  could  but  feel  it.  For  five  years  that 
woman's  feeble  whims  and  unreasonable  caprices  hid 
made  themselves  the  law  of  his  life.  For  all  that  he  had 
done  for  her,  what  had  he  received  in  return?  Very  little 
of  love  or  tenderness ;  nothing  of  counsel,  or  sympathy, 
or  support.  She  had  kept  his  house  neatly,  and  had  given 
him,  during  years  when  he  most  needed  the  help  of  a 
good  and  true  wife,  the  savor,  not  the  substance  of  a 
home.  For  so  much  as  he  had  received,  he  was  truly 
thankful ;  and  he  looked  down  into  her  open  grave  with  a 
great  heart-pang,  and  eyes  that  were  wet  with  honest 
tears.  But  when  he  came  home,  the  sunshine  was  as 
clear  as  ever  to  his  eyes ;  and  the  tuneful  robin  that  piped 
her  quaint  "  cheer  up!  cheer  up!  "  from  the  leafless  branch 
of  an  apple  tree  by  the  wayside,  woke  an  answering  echo 
in  his  heart.  His  sorrow  was  not  inconsolable. 


172  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Rebecca,  too,  felt  the  gladness  ot  release.  When  the 
funeral  was  over,  the  house  was  shut  up.  Abraham  went 
to  the  hotel  to  board,  and  Rebecca  returned  to  Mrs. 
Darrell's.  There  again  she  met  the  great  question  of 
what  to  do? 

Mrs.  Darrell  said,  "stay  with  us;"  but  Rebecca  said, 
"  no,  you  do  not  need  me,  and  I  will  not,  so  long  as 
I  can  help  it,  sink  into  the  position  of  a  useless  depend- 
ent." 

And  Rebecca  was  right.  Such  a  person  is  like  the  sink 
in  a  kitchen,  the  drain  ot  much  of  the  family  decadence 
and  refuse.  To  be  sure,  the  sink,  if  ill  kept,  has  a  revenge: 
it  smells.  But  that  is  pleasant  to  no  one ;  least  of  all,  one 
would  think,  to  the  sink. 

Mr.  Darrell  said:  "Come  down  to  the  office  and  I'll 
make  a  clerk  of  you." 

But  Rebecca  thought  that  would  be  a  poor  way  to 
stop  gossiping  tongues.  It  was  a  hard  thing  for  her  to 
stand  before  these  dear  friends,  to  feel  herself  the  butt 
of  so  many  railing  accusations,  and  yet  have  no  word  to 
say  in  self-defense.  To  Mrs.  Darrell,  in  private,  she  did 
say: 

"My  dear,  kind  friend,  if,  looking  back  over  my  life,  I 
saw  anything  to  blush  for;  anything  to  make  me,  in  the 
eyes  of  God  and  his  angels,  unfit  to  be  the  companion  of 
yourself  and  your  daughters,  I  should  not  be  here." 

And  Mrs.  Darrell  replied:  "My  dear  girl,  I  am  assured 
of  it.  If  ever  the  time  comes  that  you  feel  free  to  speak, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  hear;  till  then,  let  us  both  keep  silence. 
Silence  is  often  a  better  test  of  friendship  than  many 
words." 

But  outside  of  that  family  of  Greathearts,  it  is  doubtful 
if  any  one  of  the  many  who  had  witnessed  the  steadiness 
and  excellence  of  Rebecca's  life,  could  quite  forgive  her 
this  silence ;  and  many  who  should  have  been  more  tender, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  173 

railed  openly.  It  was  an  experience  which  was  calculated  to 
test  her  faith  and  patience.  But  she  thought  of  her  vision 
of  the  worlds,  and  said: 

"I  must  wait  till  other  lives  shape  themselves  to  the 
crises  of  mine.  My  time  has  not  yet  come ;"  and  to  tell 
the  truth,  it  seemed  to  be  quite  in  the  dark,  whether  it  ever 
would  come.  But  she  said  to  Mrs.  Darrell: 

"  I  must  go  away  from  here.  This  town  is  no  place  for 
me  just  now." 

Whereupon  the  doctor  brought  forth  a  suggestion. 
"  Laura,  Jerry  Linscott  wants  to  get  somebody  to  take 
care  of  his  little  girl — a  sort  of  half  nurse-maid,  half 
governess.  I  don't  think  much  of  governessing,  as  a 
general  thing,  but  this  isn't  a  common  case.  It's  as 
like  as  not  he'd  be  glad  to  get  Rebecca,  if  he  knew  of 
her." 

"  The  very  thing,"  said  Laura.  "Mr.  Linscott,  you  know, 
Reba,  has  a  little  girl  who  is  a  cripple.  It  is  a  veiy 
painful  case,  and,  as  he  is  a  widower,  he  feels  the  care  of 
her  very  much.  His  mother  keeps  house  for  him,  but  she 
is  quite  infirm,  and  heretofore  they  hav'n't  been  able  to 
get  just  the  person  they  wanted,  to  take  care  of  Minnie. 
I  will  write  him  to-morrow.  He  is  a  person  of  a  great  deal 
of  independence  ;  and,  with  the  recommendation  I  shall 
give  you,  would  take  you  in  the  teeth  of  an  army  of  gossips. 
You  will  have  just  about  a  week  to  rest,  and  then  you  will 
be  quite  ready  to  go.  I  wonder  why  everybody  cannot 
have  Milton's  ready  good  sense." 

The  doctor  was  laughing  to  himself,  bowed  over  in  his 
chair,  till  his  elbow  rested  on  his  knee.  Rebecca  waited 
patiently  for  an  explanation. 

"Jerry  Linscott,"  said  the  doctor,  who  had  not,  as  a 
general  thing,  any  very  great  reverence  for  the  clergy ; 
"Jerry  Linscott  is  a  —  pret-ty — stiff — man  to  get  along 
with ;  but  I  think  you'll  suit  him.  I  never  heard  him  pray 


174  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

in  my  life,  that  I  didn't  think  of  Burns'  Holy  Willie,  before 
he  got  through : 

"  '  Yet  I  am  here  a  chosen  sample, 

To  show  thy  grace  is  great  and  ample, 
I'm  here  a  pillar  in  thy  temple, 

Strong  as  a  rock, 
A  guide,  a  buckler,  an  example 

To  all  thy  flock.' " 

The  doctor  repeated  the  lines  slowly,  with  great  unction. 
Then  he  continued : 

"  Sis  house,  his  family,  his  church,  his  congregation, 
and,  for  all  I  know,  his  graveyard,  are  all  the  best  that 
could  be.  He  has  made  his  people  believe  it,  too  ;  and,  if 
he  takes  a  notion  to  you,  as  I  think  he  will,  there  isn't  a 
ram  in  all  Jericho  will  dare  shake  his  horns  at  you.  But 
he's  a  widower,  Rebecca;  he's  —  a  —  widower.  You'd 
better  look  out  for  him." 

The  doctor  hadnotsaid  all  that  was  in  his  mind,  but  he 
rose  to  go. 

In  due  course  of  time  it  was  settled  that  Rebecca  should 
go  to  Jericho.  The  place  lay  in  a  quiet  dip  of  the  hills,  away 
from  the  railroad,  but  was,  nevertheless,  for  peaceful  and 
pastoral  beauty,  as  pretty  as  one  could  wish.  As  the  doctor 
had  intimated,  Mr.  Linscott  was  an  oracle  among  his  people, 
and  well  he  might  be.  To  begin  with,  he  was  a  man  of 
family  and  consideration,  and  had  a  handsome  little  property 
of  his  own,  which  eked  out  the  small  salary  the  parish 
paid,  in  a  very  acceptable  manner.  Then,  he  was  a  thrifty 
and  energetic  man.  He  attended  to  the  church  business 
with  the  most  praiseworthy  zeal  and  judgment;  in  fact, 
almost  entirely  relieving  the  deacons  of  their  responsi- 
bility, till  the  simile  for  the  height  of  inactivity  in  the 
country  about  was  :  "  A.S  lazy  as  the  deacons  in  Jericho." 
But,  then,  the  work  was  always  so  well  done  that  nobody 
found  fault.  The  church  finances  were  always  prosperous  ; 
the  church  poor  were  always  well  fed  and  clothed;  indeed, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  175 

to  be  a  poor  woman,  and  a  member  of  Mr.  Linscott's 
church,  was  synonymous  with  having  the  cosiest  situation 
:incl  the  best  pay  which  the  town  afforded.  The  church 
repairs  were  attended  to  at  exactly  the  right  moment. 
Whatever  needed  zeal  and  activity  was  sure  not  to  go 
begging  in  Jericho.  As  for  Mr.  Linscott's  sermons,  they 
were  staunch  and  sound  —  a  little  Calvinistic  perhaps,  a 
httle  too  bracing  for  some  of  the  faint  hearted  and  weak 
kneed  among  his  congregation  ;  but,  nevertheless,  consist- 
ing of  the  very  bones  and  marroAV  of  orthodoxy,  and  giving 
small  comfort  to  heretics  or  unbelievers. 

A  man  of  this  stamp  could  not  fail  to  be  delighted  with 
Rebecca's  faithful  and  energetic  performance  of  her  duties  ; 
and  old  Mrs.  Linscott,  being  a  little  infirm,  albeit  she  had 
spirit  enough  left  to  delight  in  her  son's  constant  success  — 
for  he  was  bone  of  her  bone,  and  flesh  of  her  flesh,  where 
work  was  concerned — it  soon  came  to  pass  that  Rebecca 
not  only  had  almost  entire  charge  of  Minnie,  but  of  the 
household  also. 

It  was  a  pretty  house,  a  little  trim  and  smart  looking, 
with  its  fresh  coat  of  paint  each  spring,  and  its  dark, 
stately  evergreens,  in  the  front  yard ;  but  there  was  a  well- 
kept  garden,  with  a  honeysuckle  arbor  at  the  back  of  it; 
and,  beyond,  the  meadow  sloped  down  to  Still  river,  run- 
ning in  and  out  among  its  beeches. 

On  the  whole,  it  was  a  pleasant  home,  and  Rebecca's 
life  there  was  a  smooth  and  grateful  contrast  to  her  late 
experiences.  Minnie  proved  a  tractable  enough  child ; 
and,  though  her  suffering  made  her  a  great  care,  Rebecca 
was  womanly  enough  to  be,  on  that  account,  all  the  more 
deeply  interested  in  her. 

In  this  quiet  sphere  of  usefulness,  Rebecca  passed  three 
years  ;  years  which  it  suits  the  purpose  of  our  story  to  pass 
over  lightly.  Coming  to  Jericho  recommended  by  Mrs. 
Darrell,  and  under  the  auspices  of  Mr.  Linscott,  she  was 


176  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

everywhere  well  received ;  and  it  soon  became  possible  for 
her  to  go  back  to  Wyndham  with  a  good  name,  which 
should  stand  her  instead  of  antecedents;  but  this  she  did 
not  choose  to  do.  She  had  leisure  and  opportunity  for 
reading  and  reflection ;  and  though,  in  her  outward  life, 
she  made  little  progress,  her  resources  of  character  and 
experience  were  increasing  day  by  day.  With  this,  for  the 
time  being,  she  was  content. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  177 


XVIII. 

AN   EMBARRASSED    LOVER. 

Soon  after  Mrs.  Gladstone's  death,  the  doctor  went  to 
New  York — and  saw  Mr.  Marston.  When  he  came  back, 
he  had  the  look  of  a  man  who  had  gotten  a  blow.  If  he 
had  made  any  discoveries  concerning  Rebecca's  history, 
not  another  soul  in  Wyndham  was  the  wiser  for  it;  but, 
as  he  rode  over  the  hills,  alone  with  the  old  gray,  he  spoke 
softly  to  himself: 

"  It  is  a  strange  thing,  and  stranger  ones  may  yet  come 
of  it.  Gladstone  admires  her;  he  isn't  in  a  marrying 
mood  now,  but  he  will  be  in  a  few  years.  The  time — may 
come  when  she  will  want — Just — such — a — friend  as  the 
—  old — doctor." 

From  that  time  the  doctor  grew  old.  He  was  still  the 
same  skillful  practitioner ;  the  same  grave,  wise,  cheerful 
man;  his  old  genial  humor  was  no  way  abated,  but  there 
was  yet  an  unmistakable  look  of  age  about  him,  which  he 
had  never  worn  before. 

But,  if  the  fading  of  his  dream  had  left  a  deeper  sadness 
in  his  heart  than  any  life  had  hitherto  brought  him,  it  had 
left  also  a  serener  outlook  upon  the  future.  If  this  world 
held  little  in  reserve  for  him,  he  had  all  the  more  reason  to 
commence  the  work  of  transferring  his  hopes  and  his  affec- 
tions to  that  world  to  come,  which  already  seemed  to 
overshadow  him  with  its  glory.  The  doctor's  wisdom 
evidently  embraced  the  art  of  growing  old  gracefully ;  for 
now  that  he  really  felt  age  to  be  upon  him,  he  set  about 
borrowing  so  much  of  the  immortal  grace  and  beauty  of 
the  next  life  as  should  make  the  decadence  of  this  more 
truly  pleasing  than  its  early  bloom  had  been.  There  was 


178  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

no  cant,  no  affectation,  about  this ;  but  a  simple  and 
natural  living  for  large  ends;  a .perpetual  giving  forth  of 
wise  sympathies  and  bountiful  endeavors,  that  touched  all 
his  old  friends  with  a  new  love,  and  made  strangers  stand 
a  little  abashed  in  his  presence. 

Whatever  the  cloud  that  had  come  between  them,  it  shed 
no  coldness,  no  abatement  of  respect  upon  Rebecca.  On 
the  contrary,  his  manner  toward  her,  if  a  little  more 
reticent  than  of  old,  seemed  also  more  pitying,  more 
determinedly  helpful.  She  felt  a  change  in  him,  yet  it  was 
not  one  which  pained  her.  On  the  contrary,  the  new 
phase  appealed  more  powerfully  and  insidiously  to  her 
sensibilities  than  the  old.  She  had  made  frequent  visits 
to  Wyndham,  during  those  three  years  at  Mr.  Linscott's, 
and  always  the  friend  who  seemed  to  be  in  an  unspeakable 
way  nearest  to  her,  and  tenderest  to  her,  was  the  doctor. 
Certainly,  if  she  had  a  favor  to  ask,  she  was  sure  to  take 
it  to  no  other. 

In  this  very  spirit  she  had  said  to  him  once,  after  a  visit 
to  Mrs.  Moss,  during  which  a  fresh  batch  of  troubles, 
between  Theodore  and  his  father,  had  been  poured  into 
her  ear : 

"  Doctor,  I  do  wish  you  would  do  something  for  Theo- 
dore Moss ;  he  is  a  reckless  fellow,  now ;  but  I  think  one- 
half  of  it  is  owing  to  his  unfortunate  position  at  home.  I 
promised  his  mother  once  that  I  would  do  him  a  good 
turn  if  ever  I  could,  and  I  think  the  time  has  come  now 
when  he  really  needs  it." 

They  were  sitting  on  the  doorstep  of  the  doctor's  house, 
little  Kitty  playing  about  their  knees,  and  the  doctor 
looking  from  the  child's  face  to  Rebecca's,  with  a  puzzled, 
speculative  look,  which  annoyed  her.  She  was  far  from 
suspecting  the  problem  which  the  doctor  was  trying  to 
solve ;  but  she  was  obliged  to  wait  some  minutes  for  hig 
answer. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  179 

"Theodore  is  a  —  strange  —  boy,"  said  the  doctor.  "I 
don't  know  as  there's  anything  so  very  bad  about  him. 
He's  honest  —  nothing  mean  about  Theodore  —  but  he's 
headstrong,  terribly  headstrong.  Seems  to  be  cruel,  too  — 
torments  his  younger  brothers  and  sisters  dreadfully.  I 
ain't  certain,  yet,  how  Theodore  is  coming  out.  His 
mother's  a  pretty  fair  woman.  The  father  don't  amount 
to  much  —  but  the  mother's  a  pretty  fair  woman.  For  his 
mother's  sake,  I  hope  he  will  do  well." 

"  I  wish  he  might  have  something  to  awaken  his  ambi- 
tion," said  Rebecca.  "I  wonder  if  Mr.  Darrell  couldn't 
give  him  a  place  somewhere,  that  would  challenge  his 
self-respect  a  little." 

"  Ho — ho  ! "  said  the  doctor;  "  I  don't  like  to  ask  favors 
of  Ralph  Darrell.  He  is  n't  any  the  more  likely  to  grant 
'em,  for  being  my  brother-in-law.  He  could  do  it,  if  he 
chose ;  but  I  don't  want  to  ask  him." 

The  doctor  mused,  and  Rebecca  thought  he  had  for- 
gotten all  about  it.  But  he  broke  out,  finally,  on  the  same 
subject : 

"I  hav'n't  got  the  power  nor  the  influence  that  Ralph 
Darrell  has.  I  can't  do  much  for  Theodore ;  but,  since 
you've  promised  to  help  him,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do. 
He's  fond  of  horses,  and  a  good  rider.  How  he  managed 
to  learn  so  much  about  horses  I  don't  know;  but  he's 
fond  of  'em;  and  there  isn't  another  boy  of  eighteen,  in 
these  parts,  that  can  beat  him  on  horse-flesh.  I  want  to 
send  my  young  horse  to  the  fair.  I'm  going  down  with 
him  myself.  I  can't  stay  all  the  week  ;  I'd  like  to,  but  my 
business  won't  let  me.  I'll  take  Theodore  down  with  me, 
and  give  him  the  whole  charge  of  the  horse,  after  I  come 
back.  If  he  does  well  by  me,  I'll  do  well  by  him  —  and 
I  think  he  will.  That  will  be  a  start  for  him.  When  be 
comes  back,  maybe  something  else  will  turn  up.  Can't 
tell — must  wait  and  see." 


180  A  AVOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Rebecca  was  well  pleased,  and  immediately  found  an 
opportunity  of  giving  Theodore  a  hint  of  good  fortune  in 
store  for  him,  and  an  admonition  to  do  his  best. 

Theodore  went  to  the  State  Fair,  and  by  good  manage- 
ment succeeded  in  getting  a  handsome  premium  awarded 
to  the  horse.  Coming  back  to  "Wyndham,  he  was  quite  a 
hero.  The  doctor  bragged  about  his  horse  a  good  deal, 
in  a  quiet  way,  and  never  omitted  to  give  Theodore  his  full 
share  of  praise. 

In  regard  to  pay,  too,  the  doctor  was  liberal. 

"  There,  Theodore,"  he  said,  counting  out  the  bills  with 
most  methodical  slowness  and  exactness.  "  There  is  tAven- 
ty-five  dollars.  I  don't  know  what  you'll  do  Avith  it — I 
don't  know  Avhat  you'll  do  with  it — but  I  —  hope  —  you'll 
make  good  use  of  it.  It  seems  to  me  you  might  about  as 
Avell  put  it  in  the  bank  as  anywhere.  Why  can't  you  put 
it  in  the  savings  bank,  Theodore?" 

"  I  shall  do  better  than  that  with  it,  doctor,"  said  Theodore; 
"  and  you'll  say  so,  too,  when  you  see  what  I  mean  to  do." 

The  doctor  didnotask  any  more  questions;  but  he  kept 
a  good  look-out  for  Theodore.  One  day,  as  he  was  driving 
past  the  little  brown  ho  use  of  the  Mosses,  he  was  surprised 
to  see  a  mason  and  a  carpenter  at  work  there. 

"Ho  —  ho!  "said  the  doctor.  "What's  this?  —  what's 
this  ?  "  and  he  turned  his  horse's  head  toward  the  gate. 

"  Whoa !  Avhoa !  whoa  !  "  said  the  doctor,  to  the  old  gray, 
very  gently ;  "  w-h-o-a  !  We  may  as  well  stop  here,  and 
see  what  this  means." 

Moses  was  flying  about,  looking  important,  and  Mrs. 
Moss  was  busy  in  the  kitchen.  The  doctor  entered,  as  he 
oftenest  did  without  knocking. 

"Good  morning  —  good  morning!"  said  the  doctor, 
sitting  down  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  which  reigned, 
and  looking  about  him  quite  as  if  he  had  a  right  to  look. 
"  Getting  your  house  fixed  up,  are  you,  Rachel  ?  " 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  181 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Moss.  "I  told  Theodore  he'd 
better  put  his  money  in  the  Bank,  and  he  said  you  told  him 
the  same  thing;  but  he  said  I  shouldn't  never  live  in  this 
house  another  winter,  without  this  roof  being  shingled, 
now  he'd  got  the  money  to  do  it.  He's  up  there  at  work 
with  the  shinglers,  as  happy  as  a  lark.  The  house  had  got 
pretty  well  run  down,  and  I  got  a  dreadful  cold,  last 
spring,  with  the  rain  a-leakin'  in.  It  will  be  tight  enough 
this  winter.  Theodore's  going  to  have  it  fixed  up  snug,  I 
tell  ye." 

Mrs.  Moss  was  so  proud  she  could  scarcely  keep  from 
crying — so  womanly  proud  of  having  at  last  a  man  to 
take  care  of  her.  She  stopped,  finally,  out  of  breath. 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor,  "Theodore  hasn't  made  a  bad 
use  of  his  money.  It's  a  good  sign,  when  a  boy  looks  out 
for  his  mother  —  a  good  sign.  Good  morning." 

It  was  not  a  week  after  that,  before  Ralph  Darrell  was 
brought  to  think  that  Theodore  was  a  good  lad  to  have 
about  a  store,  and  the  youth  himself  was  duly  installed  as 
clerk. 

"  That  is  the  bottom  round  of  the  ladder,"  said  Theo- 
dore to  himself.  "  Maude  Darrell' s  brown  eyes  shine  away 
up  at  the  top."  Biit  he  never  said  these  words  aloud,  not 
even  to  his  mother. 

Not  many  days  later,  the  doctor  took  another  enter- 
prise in  hand,  which  he  had  had  on  his  mind  for  a  good 
while. 

One  sunny  afternoon  he  found  the  carriage-house  doors 
wide  open,  and  Joel  sitting  astride  a  low  bench  in  the 
warm-  sunshine,  oiling  the  harnesses.  The  doctor  saw 
his  opportunity  for  a  little  chat  with  Joel,  about  his  matri- 
monial prospects.  He  liked  a  bit  of  work  in  his  hand, 
almost  as  well  as  a  woman,  particularly  if  he  had  anything 
to  say.  So  he  sat  down  upon  a  convenient  box,  took  a 
piece  of  flannel  and  a  riding  bridle,  and  began  to  rub. 


182  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Joel,"  said  he,  holding  the  throat-latch  up  to  the  sun, 
to  see  how  the  work  prospered ;  "Joel,  it  is  time  you  was 
getting  married.  You  ain't  a  boy  any  longer;  your  hair 
is  getting  gray.  It  is  time  —  you  was  —  getting — mar- 
ried." 

"  Same  to  you,  sir,"  said  Joel,  with  a  pleased  giggle. 

The  doctor  looked  very  grave. 

"  It  is  different  with  me,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I've  got  a 
family  on  my  hands  already.  If  Joanna  had  been  a  well 
woman,  and  had  married,  as  other  girls  do,  I  might  have 
thought  about  marrying,  too.  But  that  is  neither  here  nor 
there,  Joel.  You  ought  to  marry,  and  I  don't  see  why  you 
don't. 

"Lord,  doctor,"  said  Joel,  looking  foolish,  but  at  the 
same  time  pleased.  "I  don't  know  as  there's  a  woman 
anywhere  round  'twould  have  me." 

"There's  nothing  like  trying,  Joel.  It's  coming  cold 
weather  now;  just  the  time  to  get  married.  If  I  was  in 
your  place,  I'd  get  a  wife.  Lucretia  Pepper  is  a  good 
woman.  Why  —  don't  —  you  —  marry — Lucretia?  " 

Joel  simpered  a  little,  and  replied: 

"  Should,  ef  'twant  for  Nancy." 

"  Well,  Nancy's  a  good  woman,  too.  Why  don't  you 
marry  Nancy  ?  " 

Should,  ef  it  'twant  for  Creeshy." 

"  H'm !  h'm !  "  said  the  doctor,  looking  very  grave,  unless 
a  twinkle  about  his  eyes  might  be  supposed  to  denote  a 
trifle  of  humor;  and  squinting  at  a  martingale  as  if  all  his 
mind  was  intent  upon  giving  that  martingale  exactly  the 
proper  degree  of  lubrication.  "  H'm  !  Which  —  one  —  do 
you—  like-^-best— Joel  ?  " 

"  Hi !  don't  care  so  very  particular  for  ary  of  'em." 

"  I  guess  you  do,  Joel  —  I  guess  you  do  ;  only  you  don't 
know  how  to  choose.  Which  one  of  'em  do  you  like  to 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRKT.  188 

"  Oh  !  Lord,  doctor  !"  with  innocent  affright,  "  T  never 
kissed  ary  one  on  'em.  I  shouldn't  darst  to." 

"Shouldn't  dare  to;"  (the  downward  inflection,  not 
the  upward.)  "  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  they  might  get  mad,  you  know,  and  tell  on't. 
'Twouldn't  sound  well  for  a  man  of  my  age  to  be  kissing 
a  woman." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  doctor.  They're  both 
Christian  women.  I  guess  they  wouldn't  tell.  If  I  was  in 
your  place,  I'd  try  it.  It  might  help  you  to  choose.  I 
think  it's  time  you  made  a  choice.  I  don't  think  it's  right 
to  leave  them  in  uncertainty  much  longer.  If  I  was  in 
your  place,  I'd  try  to  make  a  choice." 

Joel  thought  about  it  while  he  was  rubbing  the  entire 
length  of  a  trace,  and  finally  communicated  the  result  of 
his  reflections  in  two  words: 

"I  WILL." 

The  doctor  departed  well  pleased.  Two  or  three  weeks 
passed,  and  there  was  nothing  further  said  upon  the  sub- 
ject. But  one  day,  as  the  doctor  and  Joel  were  getting 
in  some  garden  vegetables  together,  Joel  returned  to  the 
matter.  He  was  evidently  in  a  good  humor,  and  the  doctor 
suspected,  by  the  twinkle  of  his  eyes,  what  he  would  say, 
before  he  opened  his  mouth. 

"Well,  doctor,"  said  he,  "I've  done  it." 

"Done  it  —  done  it,"  said  the  doctor,  gravely.  "Done 
what  ?  " 

"Kissed  'em." 

"  Oh  !  Lucretia  and  Nancy.     Kissed  'em  both.   Well?" 

"Nancy,  she  kind  o'  snickered,  and  says  she:  'La!  Joel; 
be  you  a  fool? 'but  she  looked  as  if  she  kind  o'  liked  it." 

"  How  did  Lucretia  take  it  ?  " 

"  Hi !  she  just  give  me  a  good  smart  box  on  the  ear, 
and  sent  me  out  o'  the  kitchen.  I  tell  ye  she's  smart, 
she  is." 


]84  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

That  box  on  the  ear,  or  something  else,  seemed  to  have 
cleared  Joel's  vision  wonderfully.  The  doctor  saw  it,  but 
took  his  own  way  to  bring  Joel  to  confession. 

"So,  so,"  he  said,  "I  —  suppose — you  like — Nancy's  — 
way — best." 

"  Why,  doctor,  should  you  ? "  asked  Joel,  in  some 
wonder. 

"  H'm  ! "  said  the  doctor,  "  I  don't  know.  I  should  be 
afraid,  if  Lucretia  boxed  your  ears,  that  she  might  not  be 
very  favorable  to  marriage." 

"  Oh !  Lord,  doctor ;  Creeshy  came  raound  arterwards. 
I  wa'n't  a  grain  afeard,  never,  but  what  she'd  come 
raound." 

Oh !  you  wa'n't ! "  said  the  doctor.  "What  did  Lucretia 
say,  when  she  came  round?" 

"You  see,  I  told  her  't  I  wanted  to  marry  her.  'Twas 
coming  cold  weather,  and  all  that,  just  as  you  said.  At 
first  she  said  she  couldn't,  'cause  she  couldn't  never  think 
o'  leavin'  Mis'  Gaines  without  help;  but  I  told  her  I  didn't 
expect  her  to  leave ;  no  such  thing.  I  wa'n't  so  unreason- 
able. She  could  jest  stay  right  along,  and  I'd  stay,  too, 
and  it  wouldn't  make  no  difference  to  nobody  but  our- 
selves. And  then  I  kind  o'  coaxed  her,  and  told  her  she 
must,  and  she  said,  well,  then,  if  she  must,  she  must,  she 
s'posed;  so  that  was  all  about  it." 

"Ho — ho — ho,"  said  the  doctor,  meditatively.  "Lucre- 
tia has  got  a  good  deal  of  temper,  Joel.  Do  you  expect 
to  be  able  always  to  control  her?" 

"La!  doctor,"  said  Joel.  "Some  folks  are  afraid  of  a 
woman,  if  she's  got  the  least  grain  of  pluck  about  her; 
but  I  tell  you,  doctor,  I'd  as  lives  drive  a  blind  mare,  that 
was  spavined  and  wind-galled,  as  to  have  a  wife  that 
hadn't  got  no  kind  o'  lightnin'  in  her.  I  heered  a  minister 
preach  a  sermon  once  about  its  being  the  glory  of  a  man 
to  keep  his  wife  in  good  subjection;  but,  Lord,  what 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  185 

chance  has  a  man  got  to  subdue  his  wife,  if  she  don't 
never  git  riled?  Them  may  have  the  tame  ones  that  likes 
'em,  but  give  me  the  plucky  ones." 

"That  is  good — sound  —  sense  —  Joel,  good  sound 
sense,"  said  the  doctor.  "I  never  thought  myself  that  I 
should  like  a  woman  too  well,  that  never  took  the  bit  in 
her  teeth.  I've  seen  both  kinds  of  women ;  a  good — many 

—  of  both  kinds,  and  I  never  did  see  a  high-strung  woman 
that  was  so  hard  to  manage  as  some  white-livered  things, 
that  didn't  look  as  if  butter  would  melt  in  their  mouths. 
It  —  ain't  —  always  —  the  high-strung   ones  —  that  —  are 

—  the  worst — to   manage.      You — may   depend  —  on  — 
that  —  Joel." 

"  There's  my  Creeshy,"  said  Joel,  putting  on  the  airs  of 
a  Benedict  already,  "  she'll  blow  herself  all  to  flitter 
strings  in  five  minutes,  and  then  she's  as  meek  as  a  lamb. 
Now,  it  takes  longer  than  that  to  get  me  started,  so  I 
don't  think  we're  likely  to  hev  a  great  deal  of  trouble. 
The  wust  on't  is,  I  don't  have  no  chance  to  go  courtin', 
livin'  right  in  the  house  so." 

"That  is  bad,"  said  the  doctor,  sympathizingly,  "pretty 
bad.  If  I  was  you,  I  wouldn't  court  long.  I'd  get  mar- 
ried." 

"  Oh,  yes,  we're  go  in'  to,  about  Thanksgiving." 

"  About  Thanksgiving.  That  is  a  good  time,"  and  so 
the  matter  was  settled. 

The  doctor  walked  off  with  his  head  bowed  down,  and 
a  smile  lurking  around  his  eyes. 

"Lucretia  won't  abuse  Joel,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  She 
won't  abuse  him.  I'll  warrant  Joel  to  come  out  all  right. 
I  was  a  little  afraid  he  might  take  to  Nancy.  It  seemed 
to  be  —  about  —  nip-and-tuck  —  with  'em,  and  I  was  afraid 
he  might  take  to  Nancy,  and  then  he  would  have  got 
uneasy,  and  I  might  have  lost  him.  But  it  is  all  right 
now;  Lucretia  will  keep  him  straight." 
H2 


186  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

The  doctor  little  thought  that  while  he  was  managing 
this  affair  in  a  manner  so  satisfactory  to  himself,  he  was 
also  making  sure  beyond  a  peradventure,  the  future  hap- 
piness of  a  woman  whom  he  loved  to  serve.  But  so  it 
was.  By  such  seemingly  insignificant  links  does  fate  bind 
together  her  noblest  plans. 

During  these  three  years,  Ralph  Darrell  had  been  steadily 
prospering  in  worldly  affairs.  Still,  as  of  old,  his  best 
strength,  mental  and  physical,  was  given  to  business,  and 
Laura,  grown  wiser  by  experience,  no  longer  made  open 
complaint  of  ill  treatment. 

"  It  is  not  the  way  married  people  ought  to  live,"  she 
said.  "  This  heaping  up  of  wealth  by  exhausting  endea- 
vor, and  leaving  the  tenderest  and  noblest  faculties  of 
the  mind  and  heart  to  rust  with  disuse,  is  a  sin  and  a 
shame,  which  I  will  never  cease  to  protest  against.  But 
common  sense  teaches  us  that,  in  this  life,  marriage,  like 
all  other  institutions  which  depend  upon  our  imperfect 
human  nature  for  development,  must  necessarily  fall  below 
our  ideal  standard  of  perfection.  And  while  this  fact 
does  not  in  the  least  excuse  us  from  striving  therein  for  a 
nearer  and  nearer  approach  to  that  standard,  it  does 
emphatically  condemn  that  growing  restlessness  in  mar- 
riage bonds  which  seems  to  be  the  curse  attendant  upon  the 
dissemination  of  free  thought  in  these  matters.  It  is  true, 
now  as  of  old,  that  what  God  hath  joined  together,  it  is 
for  no  man  to  put  asunder;  and  not  Ralph  Darrell  himself, 
so  long  as  he  fulfills,  in  any  way,  the  terms  of  the  marriage 
contract,  shall  divorce  my  love  from  him.  If  he  is  tempted, 
it  is  for  me  to  be  his  better  angel,  and  rob  the  tempter  of 
whatever  force  I  may." 

And  so  she  labored,  year  after  year,  to  make  the  air  of 
home  pure,  and  genial,  and  exhilarating;  to  throw  around 
her  husband  every  tfe  and  every  influence  which  should 
counteract  the  tendency  of  his  nature  to  worldliness  and 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  187 

materiality,  and  win  him  to  the  nobler  and  purer  uses  of 
life.  And,  year  by  year,  she  did  gain  ground,  little  by 
little,  though  he  himself  scarcely  knew  it.  Things  spir- 
itual grew  to  him  to  have  a  deeper  meaning,  and  he 
reverenced  them  more  and  more,  because  they  were  so 
beautifully  embodied  in  his  wife's  pure  life. 

This  house,  during  all  these  three  years,  had  been  a 
home  to  Rebecca,  to  which  she  was  always  welcomed 
with  joy,  and  which  she  always  left  with  regret.  She 
kept  her  interest  in,  and  love  for,  the  children,  and 
watched  over  their  growing  development  with  the  fond- 
ness of  an  older  sister.  One  winter  evening,  during  a 
visit  there,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Darrell  both  went  out  for  a  call ; 
leaving  Rebecca  with  the  children  in  the  parlor,  assisting 
Maude  with  her  Latin,  and  overlooking  Evelyn's  drawing. 
Presently  Mr.  Gladstone  came  in. 

"Am  I  intruding,  Miss  Maude?"  he  asked.  "The 
servant  told  me  that  your  mamma  was  not  at  home,  so  I 
came  in  to  see  you  and  Eva." 

Maude  rose  with  a  blush  and  gave  him  welcome,  and 
then  he  gravely  greeted  Rebecca.  It  was  the  first  time 
they  had  met  since  she  had  left  his  house,  and  there  was 
a  trifle  of  embarrassment  on  the  part  of  both. 

"Don't  let  me  interrupt  your  employments,"  he  said, 
taking  up  the  book  which  Maude  had  laid  down.  "What, 
reading  Virgil?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Reba  is  so  kind  as  to  assist  me  with  my 
lesson.  I  am  not  so  brilliant  at  Latin  as  my  mother's 
daughter  ought  to  be." 

Mr.  Gladstone  made  some  gallant  reply,  his  thoughts, 
meantime,  preoccupied  with  this  strange  and  perpetually 
recurring  enigma  of  a  child's  nurse,  who  read  Virgil,  and 
had  the  manners  of  a  lady.  A  little  of  that  curiosity, 
which  is  inseparable  from  the  masculine  organization, 
where  a  woman  of  unknown  antecedents  is  concerned, 


188  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

broke  out  in  Mr.  Gladstone.  He  had  not  forgotten  his 
encounter  with  her  of  old,  and  did  not  mean  to  renew  it; 
but  in  a  quiet  way  he  began  to  make  advances  toward  a 
farther  acquaintance. 

"You  are  fond  of  the  classics,  Miss  March?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  rather,  though  my  knowledge  of  them  is  now  a 
thing  of  the  past. 

"The  literature  of  the  day  is  so  voluminous  that  one 
finds  little  time  to  go  back  to  the  stateliness  of  antiquity. 
How  very  solid  and  substantial  things  seem  to  have  been 
in  those  old  days.  So  little  of  the  stir  and  ferment  of  our 
times  about  them." 

"  Yet,  the  last  days  of  the  empire,  the  breaking  down 
of  the  old  civilization,  and  the  making  ready  for  the  new, 
must  have  engendered  elements  of  discord  quite  as 
restless  and  fierce  as  any  strife  of  to-day.  I  think  it 
is  remoteness  in  time  which  gives  to  those  days  their 
appearance  of  grand  statuesque  calm." 

Mr.  Gladstone  eyed  the  speaker  closely,  a  smile  lingering 
about  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  It  was  a  new  thing  for 
him  to  hear  a  refined  and  delicate  woman  express  herself 
in  this  wise.  A  learned  woman  was  something  which  he 
had  always  hitherto  held  rather  in  contempt ;  not  because 
of  the  learning,  but  because,  in  his  mind,  the  idea  was 
associated  with  a  masculine  want  of  refinement  and 
delicacy.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  too  true  a  man  not  to  feel 
instinctively  that  the  attributes  of  womanhood  form  a 
crown  of  distinction  with  which  no  intellectual  laurels 
can  vie.  But  a  delicate,  womanly  being,  who  could  yet 
offer  to  a  man  intellectual  companionship,  might  not  be 
so  undesirable  a  character. 

"  Her  learning  is  probably  shallow,"  he  thought. 
"Women  are  not  naturally  intellectual  beings.  It  is,  on 
the  whole,  a  blessing  that  they  are  not;  but  the  worst  that 
can  befall,  is  when  one  of  them  takes  to  herself  airs  of 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  189 

pedantry,  and  either  utters  sounding  platitudes  and  com- 
monplaces, or  betrays  herself  into  blunders  at  every  step." 

He  went  on  talking  with  Rebecca,  but,  instead  of 
verifying  his  mental  predictions,  she  proved  herself 
original,  piquant,  sincere.  Her  talk  was  so  unlike  that  of 
any  man,  that  he  was  forced  to  admit  that  it  was 
thoroughly  womanly;  yet  she  betrayed  an  intuitive  per- 
ception, and  a  quick,  inventive  genius,  that  quite  removed 
from  her  the  charge  of  superficiality. 

"  Miss  Maude,"  he  said  at  length,  Rebecca  having  left 
the  room  for  a  moment,  "I  esteem  you  very  fortunate  in 
having  so  wise  a  helper  in  your  studies.  I  am  quite 
amazed  that  your  mamma  does  not  secure  her  at  once  as 
your  governess." 

"  Oh !  we  should  all  be  delighted  with  such  an  arrange- 
ment," said  Maude,  "but  Rebecca  will  not  be  a  governess." 

"Indeed !  why  not?"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  feeling  a  deep- 
ening curiosity  concerning  this  strange  specimen  of  her 
sex. 

"I  hardly  know  her  reasons,"  said  Maude;  "but  I  have 
heard  her  say,  that  so  long  as  the  profession  of  teaching 
was  so  crowded,  she  would  prefer  doing  something  for 
which  there  were  fewer  competitors.  Rebecca  has  such 
odd,  conscientious  ways,"  added  Maude;  "but  mamma 
respects  her  very  highly." 

"Verily,"  thought  Mr.  Gladstone,  as  he  left  the  house, 
"  as  in  the  days  of  Paul,  the  world  is  being  turned  upside 
down.  If,  to  us  politicians  and  outside  lookers-on,  it 
sometimes  seems  quite  akin  to  the  seething  'bubble, 
bubble,  toil  and  trouble,'  of  Macbeth's  witches,  it  is  cer- 
tainly a  good  omen  when  the  confusion  of  the  times  turns 
out  such  a  charming,  perplexing,  fascinating  little  enigma 
as  Miss  Rebecca  March." 

And  then  his  thought  slipped  away  from  this  half  hour 
of  healthful  recreation  which  he  had  just  enjoyed,  and 


190  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

took  up  again  the  knotty  problems  of  his  daily  life;  put 
on  the  strong  harness  of  labor,  and  till  midnight  wrought 
valiantly  at  its  year  long  task  of  winning  a  safe  vantage- 
ground  for  the  soul,  its  master. 

As  for  Rebecca,  while  she  recognized  the  innate  nobility 
of  the  man,  she  said  to  herself: 

"He  has  no  true  idea  of  a  woman's  worth  aud  dignity. 
How  should  he  have,  indeed;  having  lived  so  long  with 
that  strangely  weak  creature,  his  wife  ?  Still,  I  do  not 
like  to  talk  to  him ;  I  am  thankful  that  our  ways  in  life  do 
not  lie  near  each  other.  I  feel  out  of  sympathy  with  him, 
and  am  always  disturbed  by  meeting  him.  And  yet, 
somehow,  he  is  not  an  ordinary  man." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  191 


XIX. 

A     CHAPTER     WHICH    WEAK-MINDED     PEOPLE     ARE     ADVISED 
TO    SKIP. 

Spring  had  come  about  for  the  third  time  since  Rebecca 
had  gone  to  Mr.  Linscott's,  and  that  gentleman,  finding 
how  useful,  and,  withal,  agreeable  a  member  of  his  family 
circle  she  had  become,  began  to  think  of  making  the 
arrangement  permanent.  At  first,  the  uncertainty  envel- 
oping her  history  had  made  him  look  very  doubtfully  upon 
any  such  schemes,  if  ever,  as  is  not  unlikely,  the  pleasant 
ray  of  her  brown  eye,  or  the  genial  warmth  of  her  smile, 
had  smitten  persuasively  upon  his  heart.  By  degrees  that 
feeling  had  worn  off,  but  another  misgiving  had  beset  him. 

Rebecca  was  a  great  reader.  That  in  itself  pleased 
him;  he  had  been  delighted  with  the  industry  she  had 
shown  in  going  over  his  really  fine  library,  and  making 
herself  acquainted  with  the  best  authors  in  it.  But 
recently,  he  had  known  of  her  reading  other  books;  not, 
perhaps,  decidedly  bad  in  themselves,  but  which,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Linscott's  ideas,  no  woman  could  profitably 
read;  books  that  were  strong  meat  even  for  men  of  his 
own  decided  faith  and  well  established  character.  "Worse 
than  this,  she  had  dropped  remarks  now  and  then  which 
indicated  that  she  had  a  leaning  toward  what  Mr.  Linscott 
called  "strong-mindedness."  If  there  was  anything  which 
Mr.  Linscott  abominated,  it  was  a  strong-minded  woman. 
He  was  fond  of  saying  that  he  agreed  with  Paul,  exactly, 
concerning  women.  They  were  good,  excellent,  necessary 
in  their  place,  but  a  misery  and  detestation  out  of  it. 
They  were  evidently  an  after-thought  of  the  Creator;  and 
I  believe,  that  when  Mr.  Linscott's  mind  was  inflamed  by 


192  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

reading,  as  he  would  read,  the  reports  of  Woman's  Rights 
conventions,  he  was  ready  to  assert  that  they  were  the  one 
blunder  in  the  Avhole  plan  of  creation.  The  idea  of  endow- 
ing a  plainly  inferior  being  with  such  persistent  and 
unreasonable  aspirations  after  equality,  was  an  inconsist- 
ency which  he  could  not  understand.  If  Mr.  Linscott 
had  been  an  Ahasuerus  he  would  have  needed  no  princes 
or  governors  to  have  suggested  the  expulsion  of  these 
Vashtis.  Forthwith  they  would  have  gone  down  to 
exceeding  deep  oblivion. 

Oh !  women  who  have  to  deal  with  men  like  these,  be 
wise.  Be  softly  spoken  Esthers,  and  never  stroke  the 
royal  fur  the  wrong  way.  So  shall  you  prosper,  and  obtain 
all  your  desires. 

If  my  unworthy  heroine  had  had  an  eye  to  the  vacant 
honors  of  the  household,  I  sincerely  hope  she  would  have 
been  wise  enough  to  have  heeded  this  admonition.  But 
fortunately  for  my  story,  which  otherwise  would  have  been 
ignominiously  quashed  at  this  present  stage  of  proceeding, 
she  had  not.  Therefore,  though  she  was  aware  of  the 
cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand  upon  her  horizon, 
she  would  not  compromise  her  ideas  of  truth,  by  any 
dishonest  endeavors  to  avert  it.  She  did  not  desire  to 
precipitate  herself  into  any  such  boiling  cauldron  as  she 
well  knew  such  a  controversy  would  be ;  but,  if  Mr.  Linscott 
had  determined  upon  it,  it  must  come.  She  could  not 
always  practice  silence  or  circumlocution;  and  when  the 
hour  arrived,  angels  and  ministers  of  grace  defend  the 
right,  for  there  would  be  no  cry  of  quarter  on  either 
side. 

It  was  on  Sunday  afternoon  that  the  trumpet  sounded. 
An  agent  had  preached  in  the  morning,  and  after  dinner 
had  gone  his  way.  The  house  was  still,  and  Rebecca  sat 
with  a  book  in  her  hands — Miss  Hannah  More's  Devotions, 
or  something  equally  innocent —  when  Mr.  Linscott  entered 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  193 

the  room.    He  made  some  remark  concerning  the  weather, 
but  very  soon  opened  upon  the  subject  nearest  his  heart: 

"Miss  March,"  he  said,  "  sundry  small  hints,  which  you 
have  lately  dropped,  have  led  me  to  suspect  that  you  have 
somehow  imbibed  dangerous  and  heretical  notions.  As  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  particularly  as  your  pastor,  I 
feel  it  my  duty  to  inquire  into  the  matter,  and,  if  I  find 
you  in  error,  as  I  most  sincerely  hope  I  may  not,  kindly  and 
with  all  Christian  love  and  tenderness,  to  set  you  right." 

Rebecca  felt  her  heart  sink  within  her.  She  had  so  often 
heard  Mr.  Linscott,  and  men  of  his  caliber,  assert  that 
women  are  not  equal  to  argument,  but  can  only,  at  the 
utmost,  scold;  she  knew  that  a  woman's  way  of  stating 
things,  whenever  it  differs  from  a  man's,  though  it  be 
equally  truthful,  is  usually  greeted  with  such  open  disre- 
spect by  men,  that  she  shrank  from  the  contest.  But  duty 
is  duty,  and  hers,  just  now,  she  felt  to  be  to  stand  her 
ground,  and  use,  as  best  she  might,  such  weapons  of 
defense  as  her  Maker  had  provided  her  with.  Therefore 
she  said: 

"  Thank  you.  I  am  not  aware  of  having  departed  from 
the  faith  of  the  Bible.  If  I  have,  upon  proper  showing,  I 
shall  most  gladly  return  to  it.  May  I  ask  upon  what 
points  your  doubts  have  presented  themselves?" 

"  It  is,  perhaps,  rather  a  delicate  matter  to  handle,  since 
you  may  fancy  that  I  am  doing  despite  to  your  sex,  which 
no  man  is  farther  from  wishing  to  do,  than  I.  But  the 
Bible  so  plainly  teaches  that  the  position  of  woman  is 
secondary,  and  inferior  to  that  of  man,  that  when  I  see  a 
lady,  whom  I  respect  and  admire,  leaning  toward  the  new 
fangled  views  which  some  bold,  bad  women  are  advancing, 
concerning  the  equality  of  the  sexes  —  views  which  fly  in 
the  face  of  reason,  common  sense  and  religion — to  the 
peril,  as  I  truly  believe,  of  their  spiritual  welfare,  it  becomes 
impossible  for  me  to  hold  my  peace." 
I 


194  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  It  is  useless  to  fly  in  the  face  of  reason,  common  sense, 
or  religion,"  said  Rebecca  quietly,  "since  any  claim  which 
not  only  does  not  accord  with  all  these,  but  which,  in  fact, 
is  not  solidly  based  upon  them,  cannot  for  a  moment 
sustain  its  own  weight,  much  less  resist  the  attacks  of  its 
opponents.  But  let  us  examine  the  matter,  and  find,  if  we 
can,  what  the  Bible,  and  reason,  and  common  sense,  do 
teach  concerning  it." 

"  Most  gladly ;  and  since  we  mean  to  be  thorough,  we 
will  commence  at  the  creation.  Adam  was  made  first,  and 
then  Eve." 

"  The  brutes  were  made  first,  and  then  Adam,"  rejoined 
Rebecca,  quietly. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Linscott,  "  I  have  heard  that  argu- 
ment before.  But  it  seems  to  be  forgotten  that  Eve's 
creation  was,  after  all,  only  supplementary  to  that  of 
Adam.  She  was  formed  from  his  rib." 

"Possibly  because  the  earth  was  too  coarse  a  substance 
to  be  compatible  with  the  finer  uses  for  which  she  was 
designed.  If  there  was  so  little  of  the  material  element 
in  her,  there  must  have  been  a  great  deal  of  God's  spirit, 
since  of  these  two  are  human  beings  composed." 

"Rebecca,  this  is  puerile,  childish.  If  there  was  more 
of  God's  spirit  in  her,  how  happened  it  that  she  was  first 
to  transgress?" 

"  Because  the  serpent  first  tempted  her,  knowing  that, 
being  more  spiritual  in  her  nature,  she  had  higher  aspira- 
tions after  heavenly  knowledge." 

"  This  is  quite  contrary  to  all  received  teachings.  It  is 
true  that  many  commentators  allow  that  woman  was 
created  equal  with  man,  though  I  think  that  there  are 
passages,  in  the  writings  of  Paul,  which  fairly  create  a 
doubt  upon  the  subject;  but  the  very  language  of  the  curse 
pronounced  upon  her  makes  it  evident,  that  thereafter 
she  was  certainly  degraded  to  an  inferior  rank.  'Thy 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  195 

desire  shall  be  to  thy  husband,  and  he  shall  rule  over 
thee."' 

"  Man  has  long  ago  discovered  that  the  sentence  to  labor 
is  full  of  beneficence  and  wisdom,  and  I  do  not  believe 
that  a  one-sided  justice  was  displayed  in  this  matter.  If 
woman  was  consigned  to  the  duties  of  the  home,  it  was 
for  a  wise  and  good  purpose,  not  incompatible  with  her 
highest  and  purest  estate.  Furthermore,  if  the  curse  fell 
heaviest  upon  her,  which  in  no  wise  appears  to  me,  the 
promise  was  solely  to  her.  If  she  was  first  in  the  trans- 
gression, she  was,  so  far  as  man  was  concerned,  alone  in 
the  redemption.  Only  the  purer  nature  of  woman  was 
found  worthy  to  co-operate  with  Divinity,  in  that  great- 
transaction." 

Mr.  Linscott  began  to  see  the  danger  of  drifting  away 
from  his  usual  soundings  into  unknown  and  dangerous 
seas ;  and  to  cast  about  rather  hastily  for  something  old 
and  stable  to  anchor  to. 

"Rebecca!"  he  exclaimed,  rather  more  violently  than 
perhaps  he  intended,  "  such  perversions  of  God's  Word  are 
very  painful  to  witness.  The  Bible  is  to  be  understood  by 
comparing  different  portions  of  it.  You  cannot  be  ignorant 
that  the  Mosaic  law  made  several  plain  discriminations 
against  woman.  It  accounted  her  ever  the  weaker  and 
more  infirm  portion  of  the  race,  both  on  account  of  phys- 
ical and  mental  inferiority.  Moreover,  after  the  building 
of  the  Temple,  women  were  not  allowed  to  worship  in  the 
sacred  portion  of  it,  but  were  restricted  to  the  outer 
court." 

"  To  the  law  of  Moses,"  said  Reba,  "  so  far  as  it  related  to 
the  infirmities  of  wromen,  if  that  is  the  proper  term  for  them, 
no  woman  can  object,  except  upon  the  score  of  its  laxity. 
As  it  stands,  it  is  scarcely  a  sufficient  barrier  to  the  lust  and 
rapacity  of  the  men  of  those  times.  For  the  rest,  the  con- 
dition of  woman,  in  the  Old  Testament  world,  was  certainly, 


196  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

as  a  general  thing,  sufficiently  restricted ;  but  I  still  believe 
that  the  Divine  intention  was  protection  and  not  persecution. 
The  woman  was  sternly  commanded  and  obliged  to  confine 
herself  to  the  duties  and. subserviences  of  the  home;  but  in 
an  age  when  the  sister  was  not  always  safe  from  outrage  at 
the  hand  of  the  brother;  when  David,  the  man  after  God's 
own  heart,  was  still  gross  enough  to  commit  a  crime  which, 
in  these  days,  would  forever  brand  a  man,  and,  particularly, 
a  religious  teacher,  with  ignominy,  is  it  unfair  to  suppose  that 
the  worship  of  men  in  the  house  of  God  would  have  been 
distracted  and  profaned  by  unholy  thoughts,  if  women  had 
mingled  indiscriminately  in  it  ?  Certainly  it  was  not  a  time 
in  which  woman  could  safely  be  a  public  worker.  The 
If  aven  of  her  pure  nature  must  be  hidden  in  the  home,  till 
that  should  be  purified,  and  so  the  bounds  of  her  sphere  be 
enlarged  by  a  natural  necessity. 

"Meanwhile,  God  did  not  leave  the  sex  without  a  witness. 
More  than  once,  when  Israel  was  compassed  about  with  foes, 
and  her  men  were  powerless,  by  reason  of  their  sin,  for  its 
salvation,  a  woman's  hand  brought  deliverance.  If  there 
was  a  prophet  to  be  saved  from  the  fury  of  the  licentious 
mob  who  ruled  at  the  court,  it  was  a  woman  who  concealed 
and  nourished  him.  If  the  heart  of  a  heathen  king  was  to 
be  softened,  that  the  sacred  nation  might  be  preserved,  it 
was  by  woman's  agency  that  the  deed  was  accomplished. 
And  so  Miriam  and  Deborah,  and  the  Widow  of  Zarepath, 
and  the  gentle  Queen  of  Persia,  kept  alive  the  faith  in  the 
nobility  and  purity  of  womanhood,  till,  in  the  fullness  of 
time,  the  world  should  become  worthy  of  her  presence,  whom 
the  Maker  had  foretold  in  the  Garden  ;  and  the  promise,  on 
which  the  world  had  hung  for  four  thousand  years,  should 
be  fulfilled." 

"The  close  biblical  student  will,  moreover,  discover 
unmistakable  indications  that  the  great  law  of  progressive 
development  had  already  begun  to  operate  in  favor  of  an 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  197 

amelioration  of  her  condition.  For  instance,  in  the  dedica- 
tion of  the  first  temple,  there  is  no  mention  made  of  women 
as  participating  in  the  services ;  but  in  the  account  of  the 
second  dedication  they  are  prominently  mentioned.  It  is 
worth  noticing,  too,  that  while  it  was  Solomon,  the  licentious 
keeper  of  the  largest  harem  on  record,  who  excluded  them, 
it  was  Ezra  and  Xehemiah,  holy  men  and  prophets  of  the 
Lord,  who  welcomed  them  to  the  scene  of  the  greatest 
public  event  of  the  time." 

"But,  Reba,  you  must  be  aware,  in  spite  of  all  your 
ingenious  manipulating  of  received  truth,  in  spite  of  all  the 
grimaces  you  make  in  swallowing  what  you  cannot  make 
way  with,  that  the  fact  still  remains,  that  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment as  well  as  in  the  Old,  after  the  birth  of  Christ  as  well 
as  before,  the  doctrine  of  the  subjection  of  woman  is  still  a 
very  prominent  one.  The  Apostles,  with  one  accord,  assert 
and  maintain  it,  so  that  -were  the  Old  Testament  entirely 
stricken  out  of  existence ,  enough  would  still  remain  to  con- 
found all  the  Women's  Rights  Conventions  that  ever  met. 
Ah,  Reba,  the  truth  of  God's  Word  has  withstood  the  stout 
assaults  of  infidels  and  skeptics  in  all  ages — men  of  strong 
arms  and  devilish  tempers.  It  is  not  likely  to  fall  before  the 
feeble  rantings  of  a  few  weak,  misguided  women." 

"In  your  haste,  sir,  you  forget  that  I,  for  one,  make  no 
assault  whatever  upon  sacred  truth.  I  hold  my  Christian 
name,  sir,  as  dear  as  you  do  yours.  I  will  yield  to  no  one 
in  zeal  for  the  truth  of  God's  Word;  but,  since  Luther's  day, 
there  has  been  no  need  for  any  Christian  minister  to  berate 
the  humblest  of  his  flock  for  standing  fast  by  the  great  right 
of  the  private  interpretation  of  that  Word.  The  Bible  is 
the  same  in  all  ages ;  but  men  progress  from  century  to  cen- 
tury in  the  knowledge  as  well  as  the  love  of  it  Think  of 
the  modifications  of  Christian  belief,  which  have  transpired 
within  the  last  fifty  years  even,  and  then  say,  if  you  have 
the  courage,  that  the  plummet  of  this  generation  has  sounded 


198  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  infinite  depths  of  revealed  truth.  Let  us  take  up  the 
teachings  of  the  Apostles ;  and  in  the  outset  I  must  beg  you 
to  notice  this  difference  between  the  Law  and  the  Gospel.  In 
the  Old  Testament  the  fiat  concerning  woman  is  blind,  dark, 
absolute;  in  the  New,  it  is  written  all  over  with  light  and 
love  and  beauty." 

Mr.  Linscott  was  unable  to  see  anything  infidel  or  heret- 
ical in  this  statement ;  he,  therefore,  contented  himself  with 
saying: 

"But  at  least  the  law  is  there,  and  expressed  in  no  meas- 
ured or  doubtful  terms.  '  Wives,  submit  yourselves  to  your 
husbands.'  'Therefore,  as  the  church  is  subject  unto  Christ, 
let  the  wives  be  subject  unto  their  husbands  in  every- 
thing.' " 

"  There  are  two  propositions  concerning  the  teachings  of 
the  Apostles  on  this  subject,  which  I  think  can  be  incontro- 
vertibly  established.  The  first  is,  that  they  qualify  very 
essentially  the  ancient  absolute  authority  of  the  man  over 
the  woman,  by  referring  it  to  the  principle  of  love,  as  in  the 
passage  you  have  just  quoted,  where  Paul  expressly  reminds 
the  husband,  that  as  Christ  gained  his  headship  of  the 
church  by  giving  his  life  for  it,  so  the  husband  derives  his 
authority  from  his  power  and  willingness  to  protect  the 
object  of  it.  Certainly,  words  could  not  convey  a  stronger 
sense  of  obligation  than  that.  The  second  proposition  is, 
that  the  Apostles,  and  the  early  church  generally,  admitted 
women  as  co-workers,  in  their  own  sphere,  with  men,  in  the 
work  of  spreading  the  faith ;  subject  only  to  such  restrictions 
as  the  proprieties  of  the  times  demanded.  With  these  two 
propositions  in  view,  we  can  hardly  do  better  than  to  exam- 
ine the  texts  which  refer  to  them,  in  course." 

They  provided  themselves  with  Bibles,  and  after  a  short 
examination  of  the  passages  which  relate  to  the  mutual 
relations  of  husband  and  wife,  Mr.  Linscott  was  able  only 
faintly  to  deny  that  the  command  to  the  husband  to  cherish 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  199 

the  wife,  is  at  least  as  strongly  affirmed  as  the  command  to 
the  wife  to  obey  the  husband;  though,  from  the  fact  that 
men  have  been  mostly  the  speakers,  heretofore,  it  has  never 
been  so  strongly  insisted  upon. 

"  But,"  read  Mr.  Linscott,  " '  the  man  is  not  of  the 
woman,  but  the  woman  of  the  man.  Neither  was  the  man 
created  for  the  woman,  but  the  woman  for  the  man.' " 

"Man  was  made  to  subdue  the  earth,"  said  Rebecca; 
"  that  is,  to  be  a  worker  among  material  things.  With 
the  strong,  coarse  fiber  necessary  to  this  work,  the  finest 
spiritual  excellences  were  incompatible.  Yet  the  earth 
must  not  be  left  without  spiritual  life  and  light ;  therefore, 
woman  was  made  to  be  a  helpmeet  for  him ;  not  in  subdu- 
ing the  earth,  for  which  office  she  is  most  plainly  unfit, 
but  in  preserving  the  sacred  flames  of  honor,  and  truth, 
and  love  to  the  world;  and  you  will  please  to  mark  how 
tenderly,  in  the  succeeding  verses,  Paul  guards  against  any 
wrong  which  his  words  may  seem  to  do  the  woman.  And 
this  is  not  an  isolated  case  of  such  caution.  It  occurs  in 
every  instance,  or  nearly  so,  where  the  subject  is  mentioned 
at  all.  It  is  my  sincere  belief,  that  men  have  greatly  belied 
the  apostles,  and  especially  Paul,  in  this  matter ;  for  the 
more  I  study  the  epistles,  the  more  I  see  that  the  writers 
of  them  were  inspired  with  views  of  the  female  character 
far,  very  far,  in  advance  of  the  prevailing  conceptions 
of  their  times.  Where,  in  all  previous  or  contempora- 
neous literature,  do  you  find  such  pure  and  noble  ideals 
as  those  which  the  apostles  held  before  the  women 
of  the  Christian  Church?  To  this  day,  indeed,  they 
stand  nnrivaled  for  delicacy,  and  dignity,  and  purity. 
The  world  was  not  yet  ripe  for  the  complete  emancipation 
of  woman ;  but  they  recognized  very  plainly  the  positive 
nature  of  her  inspirational  gifts,  by  permitting  her  to 
prophesy  and  pray,  and  those  women  who  were  not  wives 
or  mothers,  were  exhorted  to  be  'teachers  of  good  things.' 


200  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

The  female  diaconate  was,  moreover,  a  well  established 
institution,  and  deaconesses  held  equal  rank  with  deacons, 
and,  in  many  instances,  gained  more  than  equal  renown. 
The  name  of  the  pious,  devoted,  heroic  Olympias,  will 
stand  side  by  side  with  that  of  St.  Chrysostom,  as  long  as 
Church  history  endures." 

"  Really,  Miss  Rebecca,  your  eloquence  is  so  overpower- 
ing, that  I  may  mistake,  but  I  think  I  remember  a  passage 
like  this,  in  Corinthians  :  'Let  your  women  keep  silence  in 
the  churches  ;  for  it  is  not  permitted  unto  them  to  speak ; 
but  to  be  under  obedience,  as  also  saith  the  law ;  and  if 
they  will  learn  anything,  let  them  ask  their  husbands.'  " 

"  '  For  it  is  a  shame,'  a  disgrace,  not  a  sin, '  for  a  woman 
to  speak  in  the  church.'  In  another  place  is  added,  to  a 
somewhat  similar  injunction,  '  that  the  Word  of  God  be  not 
blasphemed?  I  think  an  impartial  reading  of  his  epistles 
must  convince  any  one  that  Paul  was  powerfully  influenced 
by  the  desire  to  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  giving  offense  to 
his  heathen  neighbors.  But  the  proprieties  are  not  immu- 
table. The  world's  ideas,  concerning  the  subjection  of 
woman,  have  already  outgrown  the  use  of  the  vail,  and 
Paul's  command,  in  that  matter,  is  as  obsolete  as  those 
concerning  feet  washing  and  the  salutation  by  kisses." 

"  You  speak  of  Paul  as  if  he  were  the  sole  author  of 
the  epistles,  and  not  the  medium  of  Divine  revelation." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  was  about  to  remind  you  that  they 
were  inspired  by  the  same  Spirit  which  rules  the  world 
to-day;  and  which  has  ordained,  that  so  fast  as  women  are 
educated  they  shall  become  the  teachers  of  the  world. 
If  history  teaches  any  one  thing,  clearly  and  plainly,  it  is 
that  this  wonderful  amelioration  of  the  condition  of  woman 
is  the  direct  outgrowth  of  the  Christian  religion.  In  fact, 
I  have  again  and  again  heard  women  exhorted  to  zeal  and 
gratitude,  on  this  very  account,  and  that  from  the  Jericho 
pulpit,  Mr.  Linscott." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  201 

"It  is  no  doubt  true  that  Christianity  has  done  much  for 
woman.  It  has  opened  many  subordinate  fields  of  labor  to 
her,  but  it  nevertheless  unfailingly  asserts  the  natural  and 
inerasable  fact  of  the  inequality  of  the  sexes  and  the 
inferiority  of  woman.  You  seem  to  forget  that  fact,  which, 
with  all  your  ingenious  quibbling,  you  have  not  yet 
mastered." 

"  The  inferiority  of  woman,  in  a  certain  sense,  is  a  fact 
which  I  do  not  deny.  If  you  consider  a  watch  inferior,  as 
a  piece  of  mechanism,  to  a  thrashing  machine  —  and  it  is,  in 
a  sense;  it  utterly  lacks  the  accumulation  of  physical  force 
which  distinguishes  the  thrashing  machine  —  then  I  freely 
confess  the  inferiority  of  woman.  It  is  upon  this  fact, 
indeed,  that  I  chiefly  build.  A  greater  than  Paul  has  said : 
*  He  that  is  least  among  you,  the  same  shall  be  greatest.' 
And  it  is  in  the  sense  here  intended  that  I  hold,  and  will 
most  firmly  maintain,  the  spiritual  superiority  of  Avoman. 
Whoever  is  great  spiritually,  is  usually  small  in  that 
material  sense,  which  is  what  most  commends  itself  to  the 
world's  perceptions;  witness  all  great  poets  and  religious 
teachers.  While  those  who  are  strong  in  that  lower  sense 
— monarchs,  warriors,  the  kings  of  finance  and  of  trade  — 
are  correspondingly  weak  in  spiritual  strength.  To  this 
general  rule,  women  are  so  far  from  being  exceptions, 
that,  as  I  believe,  they  form  the  one  great,  striking  exam- 
ple of  it.  'When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong.'" 

Mr.  Linscott  was  listening  intently,  with  glittering  eye 
and  scornful  lip.  Rebecca  continued: 

"  If  there  were  anything  dark  or  doubtful  in  the  utter- 
ances of  the  apostles  on  this  subject,  and  I  do  not  conceive 
that  there  is,  it  would  be  more  than  offset  by  the  great 
cardinal  fact,  that  wherever  Christianity  goes,  it  carries 
with  it  the  seeds  of  the  elevation  of  woman.  The  men  of 
to-day  are  not  so  much  in  advance  of  the  men  of  the  old 
dispensation  as  the  women  are,  because  Christianity  has 


C02  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

iiever  had,  could  never  have,  sUch  thoi'diigh  acceptation 
niid  deep,  personal  application  at  the  hands  of  men,  as  of 
\vonien.  Spiritual  things  are  spiritually  discerned;  and 
spiritual  discernment  is  not  so  much  a  masculine  as  a 
leminine  trait." 

Mr.  Linscott  was  a  good  deal  bewildered  at  the  bold- 
ness of  this  logic.  Not  that  it  convinced  him,  or  caused 
him,  for  a  moment,  to  waver  in  the  old  faith  which  he  had 
taken  in  with  his  Westminster  catechism,  and  which  the 
whole  tenor  of  his  life  had  gone  to  confirm.  But  he  was 
HO  much  surprised  at  this  unheard-of  assumption,  in  so 
quiet  a  person  as  Rebecca,  that  he  hardly  knew  how  to 
reply. 

"If  your  views  are  correct,"  he  said  at  last,  "the  Mes- 
siah should  certainly  have  come  in  the  person  of  a  woman, 
not  of  a  man;  and  women  should  have  been  the  first 
propagators  of  the  faith." 

"Not  at  all.  When  God  would  redeem  mankind,  He 
took  upon  Himself  the  form  of  a  man.  Had  He  done  no 
more,  the  world  would  still  have  remained  in  sin.  But  He 
clothed  Himself  also  in  the  unselfish,  sacrificing  spirit  of 
woman,  and  by  suffering,  not  by  doing,  saved  the  world; 
foreshadowing  thus  the  path  humanity  must  tread  before 
it  reaches  perfection.  A  woman  received  the  Christ  from 
God,  and  gave  him  to  the  world;  women  ministered  to 
him,  believed  in  him,  wept  over  him,  strengthened  him, 
all  his  life;  were  last  at  the  cross  and  first  at  the  tomb, 
when  men  betrayed  and  crucified  him,  and  his  disciples 
forsook  him  and  fled.  When  faith  became  knowledge,  to 
write  the  record  of  that  life,  and  to  hold  it  up  to  the  view 
of  the  world,  was  essentially  the  work  of  men.  And  well 
they  managed  the  rough,  rude  breasting  of  popular  vio- 
lence, the  downright,  stormy  assertion  and  maintenance  of 
truths  which  had  been  cradled  at  Bethlehem,  nurtured  a< 
Bethany,  and  at  Jerusalem  crowned  with  thorns." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  203 

"Reba,  the  haughty  spirit  which  you  manifest  is  very 
unbecoming  to  a  woman.  The  propagators  of  the  faith 
were  taken  from  among  men,  because  the  intellectual 
power  necessary  to  such  an  undertaking  is  entirely  impos- 
sible to  woman.  The  mind  of  woman  is  naturally  weak, 
and  utterly  incompetent  to  vast  results  in  any  given  line. 
A  simple,  blind  faith  I  grant  to  woman,  but  never  intellec- 
tual greatness." 

"  Pardon  me,  if  I  object  to  your  way  of  stating  the 
thing.  I  do  not  think,  besides,  that  the  facts  will  bear 
you  out  in  it.  I  take  it  that  the  intellectual  question  may 
be  incontrovertibly  settled  in  this  way.  In  physical 
strength  man  is  undoubtedly  the  superior  of  woman, 
which  gives  to  the  manifestations  of  his  intellect  a  certain 
force  which  women  will  not,  and  need  not  wish  to  rival. 
But  other  things  being  equal,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt 
that  she  will  develop  as  much  intellectual  capacity  as 
man,  to  which  her  predominant  emotional  and  spiritual 
nature  will  impart  an  elevation  and  fervor,  equally  unat- 
tainable by  him." 

"  I  deny  your  premises,  and  as  a  proof  that  women  are 
not  capable  of  great  undertakings,  let  me  remind  you, 
that  great  affairs  in  all  times  have  ever  owed  their  origin 
and  development  to  men.  Why,  men  shape  the  destinies 
of  the  race." 

"Aye,  but  women  shape  the  race.  The  difference 
between  a  man  and  the  sum  of  all  or  certain  of  his  ances- 
tors, is  exactly  expressed  by  the  powers  and  conditions  of 
his  mother,  during  the  period  previous  to  his  birth.  And 
from  the  time  he  is  born,  during  the  most  impressible 
period  of  his  life,  he  is  almost  solely  in  the  hands  of 
women.  If  the  making  and  training  of  races  go  for 
anything,  then  the  work  of  woman  is  not  to  be  lightly 
estimated." 

It  was  growing  dark,  and  Mr.  Linscott  did  not  show 


204  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

signs  of  desiring  to  prolong  the  conversation.  As  he 
opened  the  discussion,  however,  it  devolved  upon  him  to 
close  it. 

"Rebecca,"  he  said,  "I  am  greatly  disappointed  to  find 
you  so  contumacious.  The  matter  is  far  worse  than  I 
anticipated.  I  regret  this  the  more,  as  it  may  interfere, 
nay,  as  I  am  a  Christian  minister,  must  interfere  materially 
with  my  intentions  toward  you.  I  beg  you  to  reconsider 
these  views,  and,  if  possible,  renounce  them." 

It  was  the  last  fling  of  a  man  who  felt  himself  worsted, 
and  gave  up  with  a  very  bad  grace.  Therefore,  I  think 
Rebecca's  answer,  if  very  natural,  a  little  unchristian. 

"Mr.  Linscott,"  she  said,  in  those  calm,  liquid  tones, 
which  she  could  make  so  musical;  "Mr.  Linscott,  your 
intentions  toward  me,  as  expressed  by  your  deeds,  have 
ever  been  so  kind  that  they  have  left  me  nothing  whatever 
to  desire  at  your  hands." 

It  was  quite  dark  when  Mr.  Linscott  left  the  room,  but, 
as  he  went  out,  Rebecca  felt  that,  by  making  an  honest, 
earnest  stand  for  what  she  believed  to  be  truth,  she  had 
lost  a  friend. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  205 


XX. 

A    MOTHERLESS    CHILD    AND    A    CHILDLESS    MOTHER. 

Reba  retired  to  her  own  room,  after  her  talk  with  Mr. 
Linscott,  feeling  vexed  and  oat  of  spirits.  That  gentle- 
man's manner  toward  her  had  provoked  her  to  dogmatize 
in  a  manner  very  repugnant  to  her  feelings.  She  knew, 
too,  that  in  going  over  so  much  ground  in  so  short  a  space 
of  time,  she  had  been  compelled  to  omit  many  modifications 
and  illustrations  of  her  thought,  which,  if  she  had  been 
permitted  to  use  them,  would  have  smoothed  away  some 
apparent  roughnesses,  and  given  to  the  subject  a  far  less 
bristling  and  defiant  aspect.  As  it  was,  she  felt  sure  that 
she  had  forever  lost  her  place  in  Mr.  Linscott's  esteem  and 
admiration ;  a  thing  always  unpleasant  in  itself,  and  so 
much  the  more  so,  as  she  had  hitherto  found  her  home  in 
Jericho  a  pleasant  one. 

"I  do  not  know  that  1  can  help  it,"  thought  Reba, 
bitterly;  " if,  while  God  has  given  to  woman  the  strong 
wing  of  intuition,  He  has  also  ordained  that  man  shall 
come  creeping  behind  her,  on  the  ricketty  crutches  of  a 
supposed  fact  and  a  possible  deduction.  I  would  have 
been  glad  to  be  milder  with  the  man,  if  he  would  have 
let  me ;  but  I  will  never  be  brow-beaten  out  of  my  own 
convictions  of  truth." 

It  was  not  in  Reba's  way,  just  then,  to  reflect  upon  the 
wisdom  of  this  provision  of  nature,  by  which  man,  who 
has  the  range  of  the  whole  wide  creation,  and  has  his  work 
therein,  should  be  made  dependent  upon  its  facts  for 
knowledge ;  while  woman,  who  is,  for  the  most  part, 
confined  to  the  narrow  limits  of  home,  lifts  a  clear  eye 
fnto  the  heavens,  and  beholds  the  principles  from  which  all 
facts  spring. 


206  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Mr.  Linscott  did  feel,  as  Reba  clearly  saw  that  he  would, 
aggrieved  and  almost  insulted,  that  a  woman  whom  he  had 
protected,  and  who  had  been  for  three  years  an  inmate  of 
his  house,  should  have  withstood  him  as  Reba  had  done. 
That  parting  shot,  too,  on  the  subject  of  his  intentions, 
had  not  been  without  its  effect.  And,  altogether,  there 
was  a  deep  and  rankling  sense  of  injury  left  in  his  mind, 
which  his  manner  toward  her,  during  the  next  week,  made 
very  apparent.  It  was  not  artfulness  which  made  Rebecca 
mild  and  conciliatory  toward  him,  but  a  sincere  desire,  so 
far  as  could  be,  to  repair  the  injury  which  he  felt  she  had 
done  him,  even  though  her  own  conscience  held  her  blame- 
less. But  it  was  quite  useless.  The  breach,  she  soon 
found,  was  one  which  could  never  be  built  up  or  bridged 
over. 

She  retired  to  her  room,  one  evening  during  the  week, 
oppressed  with  a  sense  of  coming  change.  She  had  been 
all  over  the  ground,  again  and  again,  in  her  own  thought ; 
had  wondered  often  at  the  unseasonableness  of  men  in 
being  willing  to  sacrifice  their  own  lives  for  the  privilege 
of  free  thought,  and  then  denying  the  right  of  opinion  to 
woman ;  had  considered  deeply  whether  there  was  any- 
thing left  her  to  do  to  restore  cofidence  between  herself 
and  Mr.  Linscott.  But  she  could  see  nothing.  She  fell 
asleep  at  last — into  a  deep  repose  of  mind  and  body, 
•which  seemed  to  be  the  result  of  her  latest  waking 
thought,  that  God  is  over  all,  and  rules  His  universe  of 
souls  as  He  does  His  universe  of  stars  ;  the  one  as  wisely 
and  as  surely  as  the  other. 

But  troubled  dreams  ere  long  beset  her ;  dreams  of  days 
gone  by;  of  forms  and  faces  she  had  not  seen  for  years;  a 
child's  wailing  rang  in  her  ears  all  night  long,  and  cold, 
clammy  hands,  that  were  still  hands  which  she  had  passion- 
ately kissed,  glided  over  her  face.  She  rose  at  daylight. 
with  a  strong,  unutterable  yearning  in  her  heart. 


A  WOMAN'S  SKCKKT.  207 

"Mr.  Linscott,"  she  said,  at  breakfast,  "  I  want  to  go  to 
"Wyndham,  to-day.  Have  you  any  objection?" 

"  Not  the  least,"  he  said ;  "  I  will  order  the  stage  to  call 
for  you.  It  starts  aboiit  nine  o'clock." 

The  day  was  lovely  as  the  opening  spring  could  make  it ; 
a  pure  air,  with  the  scents  of  the  pine  groves  blowing 
through  it,  a  sky  like  crystal,  and  the  soft,  moist  earth 
feeling  the  warmth  of  the  sunlight,  and  thrilling  into  ver- 
dure and  violets  almost  before  her  eyes. 

But  all  these  loving  influences  could  not  charm  the 
weight  from  Reba's  heart,  or  dispel  the  gloom  that  clouded 
her  eyes.  Look  where  she  might,  she  could  only  think  of 
the  black  and  bitter  past,  from  which,  of  late  years,  she 
had  so  resolutely  turned  her  eyes.  The  old  wrongs,  and 
the  old  renunciations,  were  all,  it  seemed  to  her,  to  be 
suffered  over  again.  Push  them  back,  hold  them  at  bay 
by  the  force  of  her  will,  as  best  she  could,  they  would 
rush  over  her,  and  for  a  time  she  seemed  utterly  over- 
whelmed. 

"Why  did  I  not  die  years  ago,"  her  soul  cried  out, 
"  even  before  I  was  born,  as  Job  wished  he  had  done." 

But  at  last,  just  before  she  reached  the  village,  she 
leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand,  in  utter  weariness  of  the 
struggle,  and  gave  up  to  the  omnipotent,  overruling 
Power. 

"  He  can  *  loose  the  bands  of  Orion,' "  she  said,  "  and 
'guide  Arcturus  with  his  sons.'  There  is  nothing  in  my 
poor  life  which  is  too  mighty  for  Him.  CA11  His  waves 
and  His  billows  have  gone  over  me,'  and  yet  I  live  to 
praise  Him — yea,  am  stronger  and  richer  to-day  than 
when  first  I  felt  His  chastening  hand.  He  has  delivered 
me  out  of  six  troubles,  and  in  the  seventh  He  will  not 
forsake  me."  And  the  refrain  came  to  her  mind,  from 
those  spiritual  heights  to  which  we  all  look  in  our  times, 
of  deep  distress :  "  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the 


208  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ;  for 
Thou  art  with  me ;  Thy  rod  and  Thy  staff,  they  comfort 
me." 

Then,  the  day  without  was  not  brighter  than  the  day 
within,  and  peace,  like  a  river,  flowed  through  her  soul. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  village  the  doctor  encountered 
the  stage.  He  drew  up  the  old  gray,  and  bowed  to 
Rebecca;  a  deep  sadness,  it  seemed  to  her,  in  his  eyes  and 
shadowing  his  face. 

"Go  right  to  Joanna,"  he  called  to  her.  "She  will  be 
glad  to  see  you.  Catherine  is  very  sick." 

A  pang  shot  through  Rebecca's  heart;  but  she  had  long 
ago  learned  self-control.  It  was  five  minutes  before  the 
stage  halted  at  the  doctor's  gate.  As  she  walked  up  the 
graveled  path  her  face  was  very  sad,  but  her  step  was 
firm. 

It  is  a  short  story,  and  easily  told.  Four  out  of  five  of 
all  the  children  born,  die  before  they  are  five  years  old. 
But  who  shall  calculate  all  the  agonies  compressed  in  those 
two  lines?  The  novelist  may  linger  over  the  bier,  strewing 
flowers  of  sentiment;  with  well-feigned  tenderness,  may 
touch  the  quick  soul  into  tears.  But  when  the  flowers  are 
all  faded,  and  the  tears  all  shed,  the  depth  of  that  agony  lies 
unfathomed  below.  It  is  not  the  hopes  wasted,  or  the  love 
poured  out  in  vain,  that  make  that  loss  irreparable  to  the 
mother's  heart.  Other  children  may  come,  and  the  hopes 
bloom  and  the  loves  twine  again.  But  the  spirit  and  essence 
of  her  own  life  were  in  the  child;  the  best  powers  of  her 
soul  were  blossoming  and  bearing  fruit  there.  It  is  her 
purest,  most  intimate,  farthest-reaching  aspiration,  which,  to 
mortal  eyes,  has  gone  out  in  blackness  of  darkness  forever. 
Her  life  opens  out  henceforth  by  that  great  window  which 
the  loss  of  the  child  made,  into  the  hollow  gulfs  of  eternity. 
Blessed  for  her  if,  instead  of  cold  and  clammy  dampness,  the 
pure  light  of  heaven  streams  in  through  the  breach.  When 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  209 

the  stars  go  out,  and  the  ocean  ceases  its  plaint  to  the  shore, 
and  all  finite  things  fade  in  the  white  light  of  eternity,  the 
mother's  soul  may  be  made  whole  again.  Till  then  she 
walks  bereaved. 

Something  of  all  this  Joanna  and  Rebecca  felt,  as  they 
watched  the  slow  wasting  of  little  Kitty's  life.  Rebecca 
held  her  for  hours  together  in  her  arms.  Looking  upon  her 
perfect  and  strangely  mature  beauty,  she  traced  in  the  full 
black  eyes,  and  wax-like  skin,  and  regular  harmonious 
contour,  the  perfect  reproduction  of  features  which,  in  her 
girlish  days,  had  stood  to  her  for  all  chrivalrous  and  manly 
attributes.  In  the  dimness  and  silence  of  that  solemn  room, 
scene  after  scene  of  those  early  days  rose  before  her,  and  the 
memory  of  them  pierced  her  heart  afresh.  But  the  hours 
went  on,  and  with  the  morning  light  the  spirit  fled. 

There  were  others  to  care  for  the  little  body  —  it  was 
Rebecca's  duty  to  weep  with  the  bereaved  Joanna.  The 
stricken  heart  cried  out:  " I  loved  her  so !  All  the  forecast  of 
my  life  centered  in  her;  and  now  she  is  taken  from  me.  Her 
cooing  voice  will  never  greet  my  ears  again;  her  pretty  hands 
will  never  smooth  these  poor,  wrinkled  cheeks.  I  shall 
never  see  the  light  shine  out  of  those  great,  deep  eyes,  that 
always  seemed  looking  through  all  things  to  the  life  behind 
and  beyond  them.  Oh !  it  was  nothing  to  me  that  I  was 
growing  old  myself — that  my  life  was  wasting  and  perish- 
ing, and  losing  its  freshness  and  its  beauty,  while  her  sweet 
soul  was  gathering  all  the  lost  bloom  and  brightness  into 
itself,  and  growing  daily  more  and  more  into  that  ideal  of 
Life  which  I  once  so  fondly  cherished.  And  now,  my  little 
white  flower  is  faded — my  little  bird  of  Paradise  droops  her 
wings ;  and  I,  dead  to  all  love,  must  still  live  on." 

And  Rebecca,  who  once  before  had  found  words  to 
comfort,  was  dumb  now,  and  could  only  weep  in  silence 
with  her. 

"When  we  do  not  know  what  else  God  means,"  said  Laura 
12 


210  A  WOMAN'S    SECRET. 

DarreU,  coming  in  upon  them  in  their  grief,  "we  may  always 
be  sure  that  He  means  Love.  Rest  on  that  now ;  the  special 
purpose  will  be  plainer  by  and  by.!' 

When  the  old  sexton  came  to  the  doctor  to  inquire  where 
little  Kitty's  grave  should  be  dug,  a  curious  circumstance 
transpired. 

"It  kind  o'  ought  to  be,"  said  the  sexton,  "in  the  corner 
by  the  Gladstone  lot.  There's  just  about  room  there  for  a 
small  grave,  betwixt  where  Miss  Joanna  'd  naturally  be  laid 
and  the  line  of  the  lot.  It'll  shove  the  little  one  up  pretty 
close  to  old  Mrs.  Gladstone,  though." 

"Well,"  said  the  old  doctor,  pensively,  "let  it  be  so. 
They  won't  quarrel." 

The  sexton  saw  only  a  ghastly  joke  in  the  remark;  but, 
as  the  doctor  walked  away,  he  repeated  to  himself  in  a  tone 
that  was  not  jocose — "Dust  to  its  kindred  dust.  The  old 
lady  was  a  good  woman;  a  tender-hearted  woman.  They  — 
won't — quarrel." 

The  funeral  went  by,  and  still  Rebecca  lingered  in  her 
old  home  at  Mrs.  Darrell's.  There  seemed  no  strength  in 
her  to  go  back  to  her  accustomed  tasks.  The  whole  wrong 
and  misery  of  her  life  were  forced  upon  her  afresh;  her 
nights  were  spent  in  weeping;  her  days  in  a  hard 
struggle  for  outward  composure.  At  length,  one  midnight, 
when  Mr.  Darrell  was  away  from  home,  she  rose  from  her 
bed  and  sought  her  friend. 

"Mrs.  Darrell,"  she  said,  "once  I  stood  by  you  in  trouble. 
Will  you  do  as  much  for  me  now?" 

Laura  was  awake  in  an  instant,  and  drew  the  drooping 
head  to  her  pillow. 

"Lie  down  here,"  she  said,  "and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

For  two  long  hours  these  women  talked  together;  and 
as  the  sad,  sad  story  overflowed  from  Rebecca's  lips, 
Laura's  ardent  soul  caught  fire  and  blazed  with  friendly 
zeal  and  sympathy. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  211 

"You  poor,  stricken,  suffering  lamb,"  she  said,  "  torn 
by  the  wolves,  and  beaten  and  cast  out  by  the  shepherds, 
and  yet,  and  yet  leading  a  life  so  much  deeper  and  purer 
than  thousands  of  more  favored  ones.  Oh !  how  can  God 
look  upon  the  earth  and  suffer  such  things  to  be.  Reba, 
believe  me  when  I  say,  that  never  again  while  I  have  a 
home  shall  you  want  for  one.  Never  while  I  have  bread 
shall  you  need.  And  this  not  only  for  your  individual 
sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  wronged,  abused,  down-trodden 
woman." 

During  the  conversation,  the  peculiarities  of  Rebecca's 
position  at  Mr.  Linscott's  came  to  light,  and  Laura  was 
confirmed  in  her  impression  that  the  best,  and  only  true 
thing  for  Rebecca  to  do,  was  to  make  a  change  in  her 
employment. 

"You  know,"  she  said,  "I  have  never  been  satisfied 
that  you  were  quite  in  the  way  of  your  duty.  What  you 
have  told  me  to-night  convinces  me  that  I  am  quite  right. 
It  is  very  true  that  woman's  highest  duties  are  in  the  home ; 
but  that  they  are  limited  to  it,  I  can  by  no  means  concede. 
Her  relations  to  society  and  the  world,  in  the  present  state 
of  civilization,  are  intimate  and  far-reaching,  and  should  be 
of  a  nature  to  purify  and  refine  the  coarser  elements  of  life 
beyond  any  thing  which  man  alone  can  possibly  achieve  in 
that  direction.  The  heathen  nations  are  not  suffering  for 
light,  as  the  men  of  this  generation  are.  Witness  the 
mire  of  sensuality  in  which  so  many  of  them  flounder,  to 
the  degradation  of  their  own  best  powers,  and  the  utter 
ruin,  temporal  and,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  eternal,  of 
thousands  of  helpless  and  otherwise  innocent  women.  I 
would  in  no  wise  fall  behind  Paul,  who  has  declared  that 
'charity  never  faileth?  But  it  is  very  hard  to  measure 
one's  invective  against  the  deliberate,  cold-blooded 
betrayer  of  female  honor.  The  most  that  can  be  said  hi 
extenuation  of  his  crime  is,  that  his  fault,  after  all,  is  the 


212  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

fault  of  the  system  in  which  men  are  educated,  in  spite  of 
their  mothers,  too  often  with  their  blind  sanction,  by  the 
pulpit  and  the  press,  that  is,  by  each  other,  namely:  that 
women  are  the  natural  and  lawful  prey  of  the  male  sex; 
the  small  fry  of  creation,  the  perch  and  minnows  made 
for  the  express  eating  of  lordly  pikes  in  the  shape  of  men. 
When  men  come  to  understand  and  know,  that  the  higher 
and  nobler  uses  for  which  women  were  created  consti- 
tute them  the  purest  and  most  elevated  order  of  beings 
the  earth  aifords;  when  they  are  made  to  feel  it  their  duty, 
always  and  everywhere,  to  protect  and  cherish  women, 
because  they  are  women,  the  race  of  seducers  will  become 
small  by  degrees  and  beautifully  less." 

"But,  Mrs.  Dan-ell,  women  themselves  need  a  great 
deal  of  cultivation,  to  raise  them,  as  a  mass,  nearer  the 
true  ideal  of  womanhood." 

"Very  true;  but  it  can  never  be  done,  so  long  as  this 
false,  bad  notion  of  the  absolute  inferiority  of  woman 
exists.  That  once  uprooted,  and  women  taught  the  self- 
respect  which  would  naturally  ensue  from  their  taking  a 
secure  and  acknowledged  position  at  the  head  of  society, 
and  of  all  benevolent  and  philanthropic  effort,  instead  of 
being  tacked  on,  as  at  present,  to  the  tail  of  such  enter- 
prises, while  a  grandiloquent  President  and  Board  of 
Directors  are  grouped  together  to  make  a  figure-head,  and 
generally  prove  about  as  useful  as  that  appendage  —  and 
the  complaints  of  scandal  and  extravagance  in  dress  would 
soon  cease.  At  worst,  these  are  women's  only  vices,  and 
show  of  themselves,  as  compared  with  the  love  of 
alcoholic  and  narcotic  stimulants,  and  licentiousness,  the 
equally  distinguishing  vices  of  men,  the  relative  position 
of  the  sexes." 

"But,  Mrs.  Dan-ell,  I  am  only  one  woman,  and  not  a 
very  bold  or  strong  one  at  that.  What  can  I  do  toward 
bringing  about  this  result  ?  " 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  213 

"  The  work  of  one,  my  dear,  which  is  all  the  best  of  us  can 
do.  But  do,  I  entreat  you,  let  your  voice  and  influence, 
your  whole  life,  go  toward  the  emancipation  of  woman." 

"Mrs.  Darrell,  your  views  are  so  pronounced,  your 
words  so  ready,  why  do  you  not  write  on  this  subject?  I 
am  sure  you  might." 

"Ah!  Reba,  too  mauy  women  have  written  already, 
trite  and  shallow  things,  which  but  confirmed  the  world 
in  its  estimate  of  woman's  incapacity." 

"But  you  are  too  earnest  to  say  trite  and  shallow 
things." 

"Many  a  word,  Reba,  which  seems  forcible  and  earnest 
in  the  silence  of  one's  own  room,  spoken  in  the  ear  of  the 
world,  becomes  either  a  diminutive  whisper,  or  a  feeble 
squeak.  I  can  but  think  that,  in  order  to  write  worthily, 
one  should  be  able  to  draw  from  deeper  wells  of  thought 
and  experience  than  those  sounded  by  the  worldling  or 
the  merely  ambitious  soul.  It  is  to  humanity's  higher 
self  that  the  writer  properly  addresses  himself,  and  I 
think  too  well  of  this  pure  soul  of  man,  of  which  the 
great  living,  moving  world  of  society  and  commerce  is 
but  the  outer  shell,  to  believe  that  it  can  ever  be  thrilled 
by  the  words  of  a  common-place  or  pre-occupied  mind. 
The  deepest  culture,  the  strictest  discipline,  should 
worthily  frame,  even  God's  high  commission,  before  the 
soul  should  dare  take  upon  itself  to  instruct  this  great 
living  heart." 

"And  then  a  woman's  book,  especially  if  it  be  about 
women,  has  such  an  unfair  chance.  The  critics  are  all 
men,  and,  one  would  judge  by  what  they  say  of  each  other, 
men  of  very  fractious  dispositions  besides." 

"  It  is  true  there  is  a  race  of  critics  bred  in  large  towns, 
their  instincts  perverted  by  a  knowledge  of  the  world,  who 
look  upon  every  book  that  is  published,  every  attempt  made 
to  elevate  the  position  of  woman,  in  precisely  the  same 


214  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

spirit  in  which  a  small  black  and  tan  terrier  looks  upon  a 
rat;  as  a  thing  to  be  treated  lo  a  good  grip,  a  hard  shake, 
and,  if  possible,  to  be  left  dead  on  the  field.  A  book 
must  have  something  more  than  the  ordinary  vitality,  to 
run  the  gauntlet  of  these,  and  escape  their  fangs.  But 
beyond  them  is  a  class  of  noble,  intelligent  men,  loyal  to 
truth  and  zealous  for  the  world's  progress,  naturally  chiv- 
alrous, besides,  in  heart  and  bearing,  who  will  give  every 
worthy  word  a  right  royal  welcome;  and  of  whom  no 
complaint  can  be  made,  except  that  they,  too,  are  a  little 
infected  with  the  idea  that  not  so  much  ought  to  be 
expected  from  a  woman  as  a  man — which  is  true  at 
present,  through  the  circumstances  of  her  rearing,  not 
from  the  paucity  of  her  natural  endowments — and  are, 
besides,  a  little  inclined  to  flattery,  by  which  means  some 
mischief  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  lowering  the  stand- 
ard of  female  achievement.  After  all,  the  critics,  as 
critics,  have  neither  the  power  of  life  nor  death;  for  God 
has  so  made  the  race,  that  a  true  word,  well  spoken,  will 
command  the  ear  of  the  world,  whether  it  come  from  man 
or  woman." 

It  followed  from  this  conversation,  that  when  Reba  went 
back  to  Jericho,  Mrs.  Darrell  went  with  her,  and  by  her 
means  a  peaceable  separation  was  effected  between  Mr. 
Linscott  and  Rebecca,  and  the  acrimonious  feeling  remain- 
ing in  his  mind,  a  good  deal  softened. 

"  Rebecca  has,  after  all,  been  faithful  to  her  duties,"  he 
said,  "  and  has  behaved  herself  in  so  exemplary  a  manner, 
that  of  all  the  ladies  in  Jericho,  I  know  of  none  more 
highly  respected  than  she.  If  she  holds  some  opinions 
adverse  to  my  own,  and  as  I  believe  to  the  truth,  I  suppose 
much  must  be  pardoned  to  the  natural  weakness  of  a 
woman's  understanding.  God's  mercy  is  infinite,  and 
happily  He  makes  little  account  of  intellectual  error  if 
only  the  heart  be  right." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  215 

Mrs.  Darrell  swallowed  her  amusement,  and  did  not  so 
much  as  allow  a  twinkle  of  it  to  escape  at  her  eyes. 

"It  is  in  the  grain,"  she  said;  "let  us  waste  no  time 
trying  to  polish  it  out." 

But  perhaps  she  had  a  little  sly  revenge  in  the  thought, 
that  even  Mr.  Linscott  was,  in  his  own  way,  very  dependent 
upon  women. 

Reba,  settled  once  more  in  Mrs.  Darrell's  home,  felt 
herself  free  from  the  shackles  of  the  past,  as  she  had  never 
done  before.  It  seemed  to  her  that  partly  she  had  won, 
and  partly  Providence  had  given  back  to  her,  the  right  to 
call  her  life  her  own,  and  to  make  the  most  of  it.  The 
feeling  gave  her  new  strength.  Once,  when  Mr.  Darrell 
had  offered  her  the  place  of  an  accountant  in  his  office, 
with  the  same  salary  and  privileges  that  he  would  give  to 
a  man,  she  had  said  to  him  : 

"Sir,  the  dust  of  your  office  would  soil  my  robes." 

But  now  circumstances  were  changed,  she  herself  was 
changed.  She  felt  herself  strong  enough  to  tread  firmly 
and  freely  the  plane  of  masculine  action,  and  gather  there- 
from no  stain.  When,  therefore,  the  offer  was  for  the  third 
time  renewed,  she  accepted  it.  There  was  the  usual  nine 
days'  talk,  which  was  of  course  to  be  expected  ;  but  when 
it  was  found  that  she  continued  to  remain  at  Mrs.  Darrell's 
house,  and  was  treated  by  her,  not  as  an  inferior,  but  as  a 
friend  and  equal,  scandal  laid  its  hand  upon  its  mouth,  and 
was  dumb ;  as  indeed  I  believe  it  would  have  been,  had 
she  domiciled  in  the  humblest  house  in  the  town,  so  she 
had  gone  steadily  about  her  work,  with  a  heart  and  life 
pure  in  the  sight  of  all  men. 


216  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XXI. 

THE   INCAPABLES. 

Mr.  Darrell,  entering  his  office  on  Saturday  morning, 
suddenly  remembered,  that,  on  the  following  Monday, 
Rebecca  was  to  commence  her  duties. 

"  Humph,"  he  said,  looking  about  him  a  little  uneasily, 
and  seeing  dimly,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  that  the 
place  was  not  as  neat  as  a  parlor.  "  Slade,  seems  to  me  we 
look  uncommonly  dirty  here.  I  guess  it's  because  it  is 
spring,  and  we  hav'n't  cleaned  house  yet,  eh?" 

Mr.  Leslie  Slade  was  the  book-keeper;  in  the  parlance 
of  the  young  ladies  of  Wyndham,  he  was  a  very  stylish 
young  man.  He  sported  a  well  waxed  moustache,  dressed 
a  la  mode,  carried  a  small  cane,  and  aspired  to  be  a  lady 
killer.  Slade  looked  about  him  rather  incredulously.  The 
place  wasnotany  dirtier  to  his  eyes  than  usual.  The  win- 
dows always  had  been  blurred  with  dust.  He  had  never 
known  the  time  when  the  ledges  were  quite  free  from  it, 
and  it  was  certainly  years  since  the  cocoa  matting  on  the 
floor  had  shown  its  original  color.  And  Slade,  exquisite 
though  he  was,  sporting  his  perfumed  pocket  handkerchief, 
and  weaiing  immaculate  linen,  had  never  seemed  to  feel 
the  place  other  than  clean. 

"The  truth  is,"  continued  Mr.  Darrell,  "we  are  going  to 
have  a  lady  in  here,  next  week ;  a  lady  whom  I  respect 
very  much,  and  who  I  expect  will  be  more  critical  about 
these  things  than  we  have  been.  Hum  !  I  hardly  know, 
myself,  what  is  the  proper  thing  to  be  done,  but  I  suppose, 
if  we  were  to  have  Peter's  wife"  (Peter  was  the  porter) 
"  come  here,  she  would  know  precisely.  There's  the  floor 
and  the  windows  —  well,  I  guess  the  truth  is,  we  need  a 
pretty  general  going  over.  We'll  have  to  manage  so  as 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  217 

to  shut  up  by  four  or  five  o'clock,  and  send  her  in  here. 
So  mind  you  get  your  papers  out  of  her  way.  These 
women,  when  they  get  a  cleaning  frenzy  on,  do  upset 
things  so." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Slade,  "I'll  be  ready  for  her." 
And  Mr.  Slade's  face,  that  needed  nothing  but  the  expres- 
sion of  a  noble  and  upright  soul,  to  make  it  a  handsome 
one,  began  already  to  wear  the  lady  killer  smirk. 

When  Mr.  Darrell  had  provided  that  the  place  should  be 
made  clean,  he  felt  quite  satisfied  with  himself.  That  old 
retort  of  Reba's,  about  the  dust  of  his  office  soiling  her 
robes,  had  had  a  literal  point  to  it,  which  she  was  far  from 
suspecting.  As  Mr.  Darrell  entered  the  office,  on  Monday 
morning,  and  viewed  the  success  of  Jane's  labors,  he  said 
to  himself,  mentally : 

"  This  will  do  for  a  month  to  come,  at  least.  She  can't 
complain  that  her  white  skirts  will  suffer  here." 

Reba,  entering  a  few  moments  later,  cast  an  eye  about  her 
and  saw  at  once  that  some  preparations  had  been  made  for 
her  advent.  She  was  wise  enough,  however,  to  say  nothing, 
but  put  away  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  took  the  seat 
indicated  by  Mr.  Darrell,  with  an  external  composure  so 
perfect,  that  neither  of  the  gentlemen  present  at  all 
suspected  her  of  any  fluttering  at  heart.  Mr.  Slade  was 
introduced,  and  commenced,  in  his  most  gallant  way,  to 
make  the  lady's  acquaintance,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  instruct  her  concerning  her  new  duties.  Everything 
seemed  to  be  working  as  smoothly  as  possible. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  himself,  Mr.  Darrell  felt  fidgetty.  The 
place  and  the  woman  didnotseem  to  accord.  Before  night 
this  conviction  grew  upon  him  to  an  extent  that  was 
positively  uncomfortable.  About  five  o'clock,  he  looked 
at  his  watch,  gave  a  few  directions  to  Mr.  Slade,  and 
started  off  out  of  the  office.  He  made  his  way  directly  to 
the  upholsterer's. 
K 


218  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Gardiner,"  he  said,  "I  want  my  office  fixed  up.  I 
hav'n't  had  a  thing  done  to  it  for  years,  and  it's  getting 
too  shabby  to  be  borne.  I  want  a  new  carpet,  a  good 
Brussels,  I  guess,  they  wear  the  longest,  and  a  set  of 
curtains  —  since  we've  got  the  windows  washed,  the  light 
is  unbearable  —  and  some  good  new  office  chairs." 

"A  Brussels  carpet,  Mr.  Darrell,"  said  Gardiner,  in 
some  surprise,  "  for  an  office !  Why,  the  dirt  that  will 
be  tracked  in  on  it,  in  one  month,  will  ruin  it." 

"  Well,  we  won't  have  dirt  tracked  in  on  it.  We'll  put 
a  mat  outside,  and  a  scraper,  if  necessary." 

Mr.  Gardiner  saw  that  his  customer  was  in  earnest,  and 
at  once  commenced  to  take  the  order. 

"You'd  better  go  right  down  to-night,  and  get  the 
measure  for  the  carpet,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  "  and  do  the 
thing  up  as  soon  as  possible." 

And  so  it  came  to  pass,  that  in  a  week's  time  Mr. 
Darrell's  office,  from  being  dark  and  dingy  and  dismal, 
was  light  and  clean,  and  well  furnished;  a  place  fit  for  a 
lady,  and,  as  he  began  to  perceive,  for  a  gentleman.  Cer- 
tain other  perceptions  began  to  dawn  also  on  Mr.  Dan-ell's 
mind.  Slade  was  a  good  book-keeper,  quite  unexception- 
able in  a  business  way ;  but,  outside  of  business,  certain 
reports  had  come  to  Mr.  Darrell's  ears,  not  altogether 
creditable  to  the  young  man.  In  fact,  sundry  boasts  and 
not  very  delicate  insinuations  of  the  gentleman  himself, 
had  quite  confirmed  these  rumors.  Men  have  an  instinct- 
ive recognition  of  their  own  coarse  natures,  and  do  not 
easily  feel  themselves  debased  by  association;  so,  though 
Mr.  Darrell  Avas  himself  entirely  true  to  his  marriage  vows, 
he,  nevertheless,  could  smile  at  the  rather  serious  pecca- 
dillos of  a  young  man  like  Slade ;  and,  as  he  was  faithful 
and  honest,  which  last  Mr.  Darrell  took  great  pains,  day 
by  day,  to  insure  that  he  should  be,  he  practically  thought 
little  the  worse  of  him  for  them.  But  Mr.  Darrell  had 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  219 

spoken  only  the  truth,  when  he  remarked  that  he  had  very 
great  respect  for  Reba.  Moreover,  his  nearly  twenty 
years  of  intimate  association  with  a  woman  so  pure  and 
noble  as  his  wife,  had  refined  his  mind  and  deepened  his 
intuitions  to  that  degree  that,  as,  day  by  day,  he  saw  Slade 
bending  over  Reba's  desk  or  chair  in  the  necessary  inter- 
course of  the  office ;  as  he  watched  the  look  of  restrained 
sensualism  in  his  eye,  and  the  occasional  laxity  of  his 
attitudes  and  gestures — little  things  which  a  woman  might 
have  felt,  but  would  never  have  seen,  for  Mr.  Leslie  Slade 
was,  outwardly,  very  respectful  to  Reba  —  he  began  to  feel 
an  undefined  uneasiness  creep  over  him. 

"Confoxmd  the  man,"  he  exclaimed  to  himself,  "can't 
he  keep  his  sensuality  out  of  sight  here,  in  the  office? 
That  woman  is  no  parlor  doll-baby.  She  will  be  sure  to 
read  him,  and  to  feel  insulted  by  his  presence." 

But  Mr.  Slade  was  by  no  means  to  be  blamed  for  his 
want  of  reticence.  He  did  try  very  hard,  feeling  instinct- 
ively how  necessary  it  was  to  his  self-respect  in  her 
presence,  to  impress  Reba  with  a  sense  of  his  gentleman- 
liness.  If  he  failed,  it  was  simply  because,  when  a  man's 
whole  being  is  pervaded  with  impure  and  sensual  desires, 
there  is  no  disguise  in  the  universe  that  will  hide  it  from 
even  a  tolerably  true  eye.  Reba  knew  the  man  at  once, 
and  it  grated  upon  her  feelings  to  be  obliged  to  meet  him 
in  daily  and  hourly  intercourse.  "However,"  she  said, 
"this  is  one  of  the  penalties  one  pays  for  leaving,  even 
temporarily,  the  natural  and  prescribed  walks  of  womanly 
labor.  If  it  was  right  to  come  here  at  all,  it  is  light  to 
bear  this  infliction  in  silence,  so  long  as  the  man  is  per- 
sonally respectful.  If,  however,  Mr.  Darrell  had  carried 
the  removal  of  unclean  things  from  his  office  a  little  farther, 
and  put  this  man  out  of  the  way,  I  should  certainly  have 
been  better  pleased." 

It  is  not  quite  clear  to  the  perceptions  of  many  virtuous 


220  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

souls,  that  the  mixing  in  society  of  men  of  foul  lives  and 
degrading  associations  is,  in  itself,  a  contamination.  In 
the  parlor,  etiquette  imposes,  or  is  supposed  to,  many 
wholesome  restraints,  which,  if  men  and  women  mingled 
more  freely  in  public  intercourse,  would  be  found  to  be 
wholly  inadequate.  If  ever  society  is  purged  of  its  foul- 
ness in  this  respect,  the  work  must  be  begun  upon  the 
lower  planes  of  life,  and  men  themselves  must  learn  to 
draw  distinctions. 

On  the  whole,  however,  Reba's  life  at  the  office  was  not 
unpleasant.  The  labor  was  comparatively  light,  the  salary 
better  than  most  occupations  offer  to  women;  it  was, 
besides,  a  new  field  of  observation  and  study,  and  the 
annoyances  to  which  her  sex  exposed  her  were,  she  often 
fancied,  less  than  the  amusement  she  derived  from  the 
same  source.  It  was  rather  pleasing,  she  thought,  to  notice 
how  deftly  cigars  were  slipped  to  one  side  by  the  more 
refined  callers  at  the  office;  how  again  and  again  coarse 
language  and  rude  behavior  were  checked  by  her  presence ; 
the  profane  word  omitted  from  the  exclamation,  and  a 
milder  one  substituted. 

"I  begin  to  be  converted,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Darrell,  one 
evening,  "to  your  view  of  things.  I  do  believe  that  the 
most  neglected  missionary  work  in  the  world  is  that  which 
women  ought  to  be  doing  for  men,  by  mingling  with  them 
in  the  ordinary  avocations  of  life." 

As  for  Mr.  Darrell,  he  was  well  pleased  with  his  new  clerk. 

"But,  then,"  he  said  to  Laura,  "you  mustn't  argue  too 
much  from  the  success  of  this  expei'iment.  Reba  is  cer- 
tainly a  treasure,  but  ninety-nine  other  women  would  be 
nuisances.  She  is  exact,  faithful  and  capable.  She  is  a 
perfect  lady  in  her  manners ;  she  compels,  without  herself 
being  aware  of  it,  the  respect  of  every  man  who  comes  into 
the  office.  Such  a  woman  as  that  would  win  her  way  any- 
where." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  221 

"That  is  the  great  trouble  concerning  women,"  said 
Laura;  "they  are,  by  training  and  the  circumstances  of 
their  lives,  as  a  general  thing,  so  incapable,  so  lacking  in 
comprehension  of  anything  in  the  way  of  business-like 
exactness  and  faithfulness." 

"Yes,"  said  Ralph,  "I've  often  noticed  that  it  is  never 
the  goodi  seamstresses,  the  good  cooks,  the  good  housemaids, 
who  are  out  of  work  and  fall  into  distresses.  A  really 
smart,  efficient,  capable  woman  can  do  anything  she  pleases 
in  the  world.  She  has  twenty  chances  where  a  man  has 
one;  her  sex  tells  in  her  favor;  which  is  one  reason  that  I 
so  soon  get  out  of  patience  when  I  hear  about  single 
women,  women  without  children,  starving  for  want  of 
work.  As  a  general  thing,  those  who  starve  are  small  loss 
to  the  world ! " 

"Oh!  Ralph!  Ralph!  you  are  ungenerous  now  ;  for,  say 
what  you  may,  when  it  comes  to  the  matter  of  earning 
one's  own  living,  the  laws  and  the  customs  are  all  oppres- 
sive, to  the  last  degree,  where  women  are  concerned.  And 
when  you  add  to  this  the  fact  that  they  are  taught  from  their 
cradles  that  they  cannot  and  ought  not  to  do  as  much  as 
men,  being  naturally  the  weaker  vessels,  yet,  at  the  pinch, 
find  that  it  requires  just  as  much  food  to  keep  them  from 
starving,  and  just  as  much  clothing  to  keep  them  from 
freezing,  as  if  they  were  men,  it  is  no  wonder  that  so  many 
of  them  become  discouraged,  and  either  sink  into  helpless- 
ness, or,  worse,  into  that  yawning  gulf  which  the  profligacy 
of  men  keeps  ever  open  at  their  feet." 

"Well,  now,  I  deny  that  the  laws  and  customs  are 
altogether  to  blame.  Just  you  suppose  that  one-half  the 
women  who  are  starving  to  death  at  plain  sewing  were  to 
educate  themselves  as  scientific  and  practical  cooks — which 
any  smart  woman  might  do  in  the  kitchen  of  her  wealthy 
neighbor;  and  half  the  women  who  are  elbowing  each 
other  so  uncomfortably  as  teachers  —  say  that  half  which 


222  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

plainly  confess  that  they  have  no  love  for  the  vocation, 
but  only  practice  it  for  the  pay — should  fit  themselves  by 
cheerful  endeavor  for  intelligent,  faithful  nurse-girls,  do 
you  suppose  they  would  get  a  cold  shoulder  from  the 
world?  I  think  not.  Why,  I  know  of  forty  families  that 
would  hail  such  an  one  as  a  godsend,  and  pay  any  price 
for  her  services.  It  is  not  opportunity,  but  pride,  and 
want  of  inclination  to  work,  that  starves  many  women. 
In  the  old  countries,  a  good  housekeeper,  or  a  good  nurse- 
maid in  a  wealthy  family,  is  considered  quite  equal  socially 
to  the  wives  of  small  tradespeople,  and  I  do  not  know 
any  reason  why  they  would  not  take  even  higher  rank 
here.  In  this  country,  it  is  especially  true  that  it  is  shift- 
lessness  and  incapacity  that  are  looked  down  upon.  Why, 
we  have  so  little  of  the  spirit  of  caste,  that  we  respect  a 
good  clam-digger  more  than  a  bad  poet!  The  truth  is,  that 
the  present  generation  of  women  are  singularly  inefficient 
and  incapable  of  doing  anything  in  a  thorough,  business- 
like way." 

Laura  thought  a  minute  very  soberly. 

"  Ralph,"  she  said  "  the  present  generation  of  women 
have,  as  a  general  thing,  been  regularly  trained  to  do 
nothing  whatever,  but  to  depend  upon  men  to  work  and 
think,  and  almost  breathe  for  them.  They  have,  been 
taught  that  it  is  unladylike  to  work,  to  be  in  any  way 
useful ;  that  the  only  way  for  a  woman  to  live  is  to  get 
married,  and  to  exact  from  the  man  she  marries  the 
greatest  possible  amount  of  gratification,  for  the  least 
possible  return.  That  is  their  vocation.  Whether  or  not 
they  are  mistresses  of  it,  let  the  husbands  of  some  of  our 
fashionably  educated  women  testify." 

"Now,  Laura,  it  is  you  who  are  unjust.  If  women  lack 
training,  pray  whose  fault  is  it?  What  are  all  our  female 
colleges  and  seminaries  of  learning  for?" 

"  Principally  to  enable  women  to  make  herbariums  and 


A  WOMAN  S   SECRET.  228 

calculate  eclipses.  When  you  speak  of  the  educational 
advantages  afforded  to  women,  you  touch  a  delicate 
subject.  It  has  long  been  my  opinion,  that,  as  a  nation, 
we  stultify  ourselves  in  this  particular,  in  a  way  which, 
in  any  practical  business  matter,  would  stamp  us  as  fools 
at  once.  It  is  all  very  well  for  a  Avornan  to  be  able  to  sail 
a  ship  according  to  the  latest  theories  of  navigation,  or  to 
analyze  chemically  any  known  or  unknown  substance, 
provided  first,  that  she  do  not  thereby  neglect  a  knowledge 
of  her  first  and  most  obvious  duties  as  a  woman — good 
house-keeping,  good  nursing,  and,  above  all,  the  difficult 
and  incalculably  important  duties  of  maternity;  and, 
secondly,  that  she  be  provided  with  some  way  of  earning 
her  own  living,  when  that  becomes  necessary. 

"  If  women  were  educated  to  do  their  own  work  well, 
it  is  true  that  they  would  not  be  so  utterly  helpless,  when 
thrown  upon  the  world,  to  take  care  of  themselves.  If, 
besides,  those  girls  who  are  evidently  liable  to  be  so 
placed — the  daughters  of  men  themselves  dependent  upon 
their  own  exertions,  the  daughters  of  widows,  orphan 
girls  without  means — if  these  could  have  an  equal  knowl- 
edge of  practical  affairs  with  boys,  it  would  avail  them 
vastly  more  toward  keeping  body  and  soul  together,  and 
preserving  the  priceless  jewel  of  their  honor  from  the 
rapacity  of  men,  than  much  Greek  and  mathematics. 
That,  or  else,  being  fitted  for  the  learned  professions,  let 
the  learned  professions  be  opened  to  them.  To  educate 
a  large  class  of  our  girls  to  the  same  tastes  and  habits  to 
which  we  would  educate  our  boys,  if  we  designed  them 
for  doctors,  or  lawyers,  or  ministers,  and  then  tell  them, 
*  you  must  teach  or  starve,'  when,  if  there  were  an  equal 
distribution  of  scholars  among  such  aspirants,  there  would 
be  about  three  pupils  to  a  teacher,  is  certainly  absurd." 
"  But  girls  don't  have  time  to  learn  everything,  Laura." 
"  Neither  do  boys ;  for  which  excellent  reason  they  are 


224  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

only  expected  to  learn  that  which  will  be  most  useful  or 
indispensable  to  them.  That  is  simple  common  sense ; 
but  it  somehow  seems  to  be  impossible  for  men  to  exercise 
common  sense,  where  the  advantages  or  privileges  of 
women  are  concerned." 

"  But,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  there  is  a  large 
class  of  women  who  are  naturally  incapable  of  taking 
care  of  themselves.  Weak  in  body,  weak  in  spirit,  pur- 
poseless, inefficient,  mere  waifs  on  the  great  ocean  of 
humanity." 

"Yes,  there  are  such  men,  too.  That  the  women  of  this 
class  are  more  numerous,  is,  I  believe,  simply  because 
of  the  errors  in  training  which  we  have  just  been  discuss- 
ing. But  it  is  a  sore,  sore  wrong,  which  underlies  all  that 
stratum  of  society.  These  people  who  are  naturally 
incapable,  are  so,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  because  they  truly 
reflect  the  discouragements,  the  heart-weariness,  the  secret 
pinings  and  regrets  of  the  mothers  who  bore  them.  Ralph, 
when  I  look  around  me,  and  see  the  terrible  disadvantages 
under  which  women  labor,  at  their  great  sacred  office  of 
maternity,  I  wonder  not  at  the  weakness  of  the  race,  but 
at  its  indomitable  energy  and  life.  If  there  is  any  being 
in  the  world  more  to  be  pitied  than  the  woman  whose 
every  energy  is  taxed  for  the  support  of  the  new  life ; 
whose  days  are  filled  with  a  thousand  nameless  discom- 
forts, and  her  nights  with  wakefulness  and  suffering ;  who 
feels  herself,  too  often,  neglected  by  her  husband,  just 
when  she  most  needs  his  utmost  tenderness  and  sympathy; 
the  victim  of  nervous  fears  and  premonitions,  compelled 
to  labor,  deprived  of  many  of  the  genial,  hai-monizing 
influences  of  the  outer  world ;  if  there  is  anybody  more  to 
be  pitied  than  this  neglected,  suffering,  helpless  woman,  it 
is  the  weak,  desponding,  incapable  offspring,  she  must  of 
necessity  bring  into  the  world.  I  have  seen  such  ones, 
that  made  my  heart  ache  more  than  any  case  of  acut« 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  225 

suffering  I  ever  saw.  Incapable  of  taking  care  of  them- 
selves, incapable  of  inspiring  any  interest  in  others  which 
would  lead  to  assistance,  oftentimes  cursed  with  the  vain, 
hopeless,  aimless  longings,  which  beset  the  suffering  but 
uncomplaining  mother,  with  no  earthly  chance  of  ever 
seeing  them  gratified;  —  ah  !  Ralph,  these  are  they  whom 
the  Christ  commanded  us  to  forgive  the  '  seventy  times 
seven '  sins.  Ralph,  thinking  of  these  alone  makes  my 
heart  burn  within  me  to  raise  my  hand  and  voice  in  behalf, 
not  of  women,  but  of  all  the  weak  and  down-trodden  of 
the  race." 

"  Laura,"  said  her  husband,  tenderly,  "  don't  get  excited. 
You  are  just  laying  off  the  burdens  of  your  life.  Don't 
take  the  world  on  your  shoulders  quite  yet.  Give  your- 
self a  little  rest." 

As  age  crept  toward  Mr.  Darrell,  and  his  blood  steadied 
itself  a  little,  he  leaned  more  and  more  upon  his  faithful, 
large  hearted  wife;  he  cherished  her  tenderly;  he  gained 
a  quicker  and  deeper  insight  into  her  wants ;  he  depended 
more  upon  her  judgment,  and  trusted  more  to  her  intui- 
tions. And  as  Laura,  her  nature  expanded  and  toned  to  a 
sweeter  beneficence  by  the  loves  and  duties  of  woman- 
hood, passed  from  the  narrow  and  partial  reach  of  youth, 
to  the  grander  range  and  wider  horizon  of  middle  age, 
and  felt,  as  the  true  woman  ever  does  feel,  as  she  passes 
this  mysterious  line,  her  mother-heart  grow  great  toward 
all  the  race,  he  began  to  see,  as  he  never  had  seen  before, 
the  true  significance  of  woman's  calling ;  and  to  feel  as 
she  felt,  that  the  fruit  which  had  ripened  in  his  own  house- 
hold, under  his  own  eye,  yet  how  often  with  little  help 
from  him,  was  meet  for  the  world's  acceptance.  And  yet 
his  soul  was  divided  with  weak  and  not  unselfish  longings 
to  hold  his  treasure  back,  to  keep  for  himself,  and  his  own 
home,  all  that  warmth  of  love,  that  depth  and  clearness 
of  spiritual  insight.  Therefore,  he  said:  "Give  yourself 


226  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

a  little  rest  Don't  put  on  the  new  harness  too  soori.  You 
are  not  strong  enough  for  it." 

"My  husband,"  she  said,  looking  steadily  at  him,  hei 
great,  gray  eyes  shining  now  with  inward  light;  "mj 
husband,  it  is  the  nature  of  women  to  grow  strong  in 
giving,  rather  than  receiving.  Do  not  hold  me  back;  but 
let  me  feel,  instead,  your  strong  arm  around  me  for  sup 
port  and  defense.  So  I  shall  be  invulnerable." 

There  was  a  moisture  in  his  eyes,  as  he  answered: 
"  Laura,  God  does  dwell  more  nearly  with  women  than 
with  men.  Lead  you  the  way;  I  follow.  You  shall  be 
eyes  to  see;  I  strength  to  execute." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  227 


XXII. 

AMONG   THE    "  VINES." 

In  the  three  years  which  had  elapsed  since  his  wife's 
death,  Abraham  Gladstone's  fortunes  had  steadily  im- 
proved. His  whole  strength  and  energy  had  been  con- 
centrated upon  the  one  object  of  winning  back  his 
hereditary  position.  Till  he  saw  the  mortgage  upon  the 
old  estate  cancelled,  and  the  power  in  his  hands  to  reside 
there  in  the  old  state  and  glory,  he  was  determined  to 
give  no  thought  to  any  other  matter. 

Such  singleness  of  purpose  was  characteristic  of  the 
man.  He  had  not  a  brilliant  mind ;  would  never  carry  off 
fortune's  prizes  by  storm.  He  was  not  gifted  with  quick 
and  deep  insight.  His  words  ever  came  slowly,  and  in 
public  speaking  were  never  redundant.  But  he  was 
careful,  painstaking,  thorough.  In  forensic  debates,  he 
was  clear  and  forcible,  rather  than  eloquent;  his  logic 
was  simple  and  had  a  certain  mathematical  accuracy  and 
precision  which  always  told  with  a  jury.  In  cases  where 
the  feelings  of  his  audience  were  interested,  he  seldom 
drew  tears,  but  often  touched  a  certain  minor  key  of 
sadness  that  reaches  below  the  tear-ducts — which  lie, 
after  all,  very  near  the  surface  —  into  the  hidden  places 
of  sorrow  itself. 

Without  at  all  possessing  those  shining  surface  gifts, 
which  oftenest  render  a  man  what  is  called  popular,  he 
still  had  gained  a  fast  hold  upon  the  hearts  and  minds  of 
the  people  among  whom  he  lived.  They  knew  that  he 
was  an  honest  man.  You  could  not  impannel  a  jury 
within  twenty  miles  of  Wyndham,  that  wouldn't  believe 
every  word  that  Abraham  Gladstone  told  them  to  be  true. 


228  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

They  knew  him  to  be  earnest  and  hard-working,  with  a 
native  goodness  of  heart,  which,  in  spite  of  his  pressing 
want  of  money,  led  him  always  to  undertake  the  cause  of 
a  poor  man  as  readily  as  if  he  were  rich,  provided  he 
were  certain  that  he  was  in  the  right.  For  these  reasons, 
it  happened  that  he  had  not  unfrequently  been  nominated 
for  county  and  state  offices,  and  had  never  yet  been 
defeated.  Parties  were  pretty  equally  divided,  and  the 
leaders  of  the  liberal  side  had  already  begun  to  speak  of 
Abraham  Gladstone  as  the  most  available  candidate  for 
the  next  Congressional  election.  He  was,  therefore, 
emphatically  a  rising  man. 

This  very  spring  of  which  we  write,  he  had  so  reduced 
the  mortgage  upon  the  old  estate,  that  he  felt  himself 
practically  out  of  debt,  with  a  sure  income  which  would 
warrant  him  in  opening  the  family  mansion  whenever  he 
should  find  the  proper  person  to  be  mistress  of  it.  This 
being  well  understood  to  be  the  case,  there  was  naturally 
a  flutter  of  anxiety  through  all  the  female  part  of  the 
community ;  for  a  handsome,  good  tempered  man  like  Mr. 
Gladstone,  who  at  thirty-five  was  the  foremost  man  in 
the  county,  would  not  be  likely  to  go  begging  for  a  wife. 

Mr.  Gladstone  understood  this  fact  perfectly,  and 
accepted  it  with  the  usual  masculine  complacency.  How- 
ever, it  by  no  means  reduced  the  difficulty  of  a  choice. 
Just  at  the  present  juncture,  there  were  two  ladies  who 
stood  out  with  some  prominence  from  the  ranks  of  his 
female  admirers. 

The  first,  my  pen  hesitates  to  confess  it,  was  Miss  Lillie 
Meredith,  the  only  child  of  the  widow  lady  with  whom 
Mr.  Gladstone  had  boarded  for  the  last  two  years. 

Searching  about  for  reasons  for  this  prominence  of  Miss 
Lillie' s  claims,  I  can  only  find  two:  the  first,  propinquity; 
and  the  second,  the  fact  that  Mr.  Gladstone  was  a  man. 
If  this  last  seems  still  a  little  obscure,  I  shall  endeavor 


A  WOMAN  S   SECRET.  229 

hereafter  to  shed  some  light  upon  it.  Miss  Lillie  was  a 
fair-haired  young  lady  of  about  nineteen  summers,  though 
few  persons  would  have  judged  her  to  he  more  than 
seventeen,  so  girlish  and  immature  were  her  manners. 
Her  mother  was  a  poor  woman,  who  worked  all  her  days 
and  many  of  her  nights  to  maintain  herself  and  daughter. 
Or,  rather,  more  truthfully,  her  daughter.  The  entire 
cost  of  her  own  keeping  would  hardly  have  paid  for  that 
young  lady's  boots.  Miss  Lillie  had  been  sent  to  the 
Academy  ever  since  she  was  nine  years  old.  She  had 
been  taught  French,  and  music,  and  drawing,  and  dancing. 
She  knew  about  as  much  about  kitchen  work  as  one  of 
the  flies  which  buzzed  about  her  mother's  kitchen  window 
panes.  She  had  never  made  a  bed  in  her  life;  she  had 
never  swept  a  room  in  her  life ;  she  had  never  made  a 
petticoat  for  herself,  though  she  may  possibly  have 
achieved  tatting  enough  to  put  about  the  edge  of  one 
when  her  mother  had  otherwise  finished  it,  but  be  sure 
she  never  sewed  the  tatting  on. 

But  Miss  Lillie  was  very  pretty,  very  accomplished, 
very  engaging.  She  was  always  nicely  dressed,  when 
Mr.  Gladstone  saw  her ;  for  if  she  was  up  late,  and  had  no 
time  to  take  her  hair  out  of  the  curling  pins  before  the 
breakfast  bell  rang,  she  would  notgo  down  to  breakfast. 
And  then  her  mamma,  sitting  behind  the  coffee-urn  and 
looking  solicitous,  said : 

"  Poor  Lillie,  she  studies  so  hard  that  she  never  feels 
well  in  the  mornings.  Kate,  you'd  better  take  a  cup  of 
coffee  and  a  bit  of  toast  to  her  room." 

And  Kate,  who  knew  her  young  mistress  a  great  deal 
too  well  to  approach  her  with  so  poor  a  show  of  good 
eating,  stopped  in  the  kitchen  and  added  a  bit  of  steak 
and  an  omelet. 

Miss  Lillie  had  the  manners  of  a  half-grown  kitten ;  she 
was  just  so  lithe  and  purring,  and  soft,  and  lively. 


230  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Mr.  Gladstone  meeting  her  on  the  porch,  with  a  pout 
on  her  lip,  would  say: 

"How  now,  Miss  Lillie,  what  is  that  great  pout  for? 
Anything  serious  the  matter?  " 

"  I  should  think  there  was,  but  I'm  not  going  to  tell 
you,  for  you're  a  man  and  would  laugh  at  me." 

"For  shame,  Miss  Lillie,  I  never  laughed  at  you  in  my 
life." 

Thereupon  she  would  pout  and  look  up  coyly,  advance  a 
step,  retreat  two,  keeping  up  all  the  time  a  skirmishing  fire 
from  her  eyes ;  till,  at  last,  it  was  ten  chances  to  one  that 
she  managed  to  get  behind  the  grape  vine,  and  then  Mr. 
Gladstone  by  way  of  entreaty,  somehow  got  his  hand  on 
her  arm  or  about  her  waist.  He  was  an  old  friend,  you 
know,  and  being  very  determined  to  find  out  the  secret  of 
that  pout,  pressed  her  so  hard  that  she  by  and  by  whispered 
so  low  that  he  had  to  bend  his  car  just  in  reach  of  her 
saucy  curls  to  hear  it,  that  there  was  to  be  a  concert  at  the 
Hall  next  evening,  and  she  could  not  go,  for  that  clown, 
Sam  Ainsworth  had  asked  her,  and  bcr  mamma  had  said 
he  was  not  a  proper  person  for  hot  ta  go  with,  and  had 
forbidden  her  ever  being  seen  with  him  anywhere. 

"  And  I  had  to  tell  him  a  little  fib  to  get  rid  of  him. 
There,  now,  go  away,  you  saucy  matf .  You've  got  it  all ;  but 
you  know  I'd  never  have  told  you  if  you  ludu't  made  me." 

"But,  no,"  says  Mr.  Gladstone,  "you  bav'n't  told  me 
what  the  fib  was." 

"Oh!  and  never,  never,  never  will,"  sayo  Miss  Lillie. 
"You  might  go  down  on  your  knees  to  me  and  1 
wouldn't."  r***., 

But  he  don't  go  down  on  his  knees,  and  she  does  tell  him 
that  she  told  Sam  Ainsworth  she  was  previously  engaged; 
and  then  she  actually  cries  a  little. 

Whereupon,  Mr.  Gladstone  begs  her  to  comfojv 
for  it  was  no  fib  at  all,  as  she  is  always  previously 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  231 

to  him  in  all  such  cases;  and  then,  in  the  humblest  way  in 
the  world,  as  if  it  were  the  greatest  possible  favor,  he  asks 
her  will  she  honor  him  by  going  with  him;  and  she  whispers 
in  such  a  soft,  purring  way: 

"Yes,  indeed,  if  mamma  will  allow." 

Mamma  does  allow,  and  Miss  Lillie  is  very  highly 
gratified  with  the  success  of  her  strategy. 

So  now  I  hope  you  understand  what  I  meant  by  saying 
that  one  of  the  reasons  for  Miss  Lillie's  prominence  in  the 
ranks  of  competitors  was  the  fact  that  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
a  man. 

The  other  lady  was  Miss  Azarian  Ridalhuber.  This 
young  woman  was  not  a  native  of  Wyndham,  but  an 
exotic,  sent,  with  great  care  and  some  expense,  from  a 
choice  nook  in  Japonicadom,  for  the  express  purpose  of 
some  time  blooming  in  the  now  chill  and  deserted  bowers 
of  the  Gladstone  mansion. 

It  was  a  sad  story,  Miss  Azarian  thought;  she  always 
alluded  to  it,  if  at  all,  with  downcast  eyes,  and  a  porten- 
tous sigh.  The  Ridalhubers  had  once  been  very  wealthy. 
But  losses  came,  and  then  failure,  and  then  poor  papa  got 
into  such  sad  ways,  and  mamma's  fortune,  which  really  was 
quite  large,  only  it  was  a  very  expensive  family,  three  sons 
you  know,  was  sadly  strained  to  keep  the  house  going. 
And  so,  though  this  was  never  hinted,  this  Miss  Azarian 
had  been  sent  out  to  these  rural  shades  to  spend  the 
summer  with  her  cousin,  Mrs.  Evans,  the  minister's  lady, 
and,  if  possible,  make  a  brilliant  match.  Of  course,  looking 
the  ground  over,  she  judged  that  she  had  a  prescriptive  right 
to  Mr.  Gladstone,  and  began  to  lay  her  plans,  with  intense 
scorn  of  all  rustic  rivals. 

Mr.  Evans  was  a  ripe  scholar,  a  Christian  of  deep 
spiritual  experience,  and  a  genial,  excellent  man.  It  was  a 
little  doubtful  whether  his  wife  was  as  thoroughly  divorced 
as  himself  from  "the  world,  the  flesh  and  the  devil."  At 


232  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

any  rate,  she  still  cherished  a  kindly  pride  in  the  glories 
of  her  family,  who  were  nearly  connected  with  the  Ridal- 
hubers ;  and  had  taken  great  pains,  and  been  at  some 
expense  of  exact  verity,  to  produce  the  impression  in 
Wyndham,  that  her  cousin,  Miss  Azarian,  was  a  belle,  an 
heiress,  and  a  most  distinguished  ornament  of  the  very 
highest  circle  of  New  York  society,  and  had  no  motive  what- 
ever in  secluding  herself  in  Wyndham,  when  she  might  be 
leading  captive  the  millionaires  who  haunt  the  summer 
watering  places,  except  her  tender  affection  for  her  devoted 
cousin  Elisa,  or,  as  Miss  Azarian  always  pronounced  it, 
E"lise. 

Miss  Ridalhuber  certainly  had  some  claims  to  the  appel- 
lation of  a  beauty.  She  was  of  medium  height,  with  a 
slight  figure,  and  a  pale,  wax-like  complexion.  Her  eyes 
and  hair  were  a  handsome  shade  of  brown,  and  well 
matched.  Her  features  were  regular  and  fine,  and  the 
tone  of  her  manners  corresponded  precisely  to  the  tone  of 
her  face.  She  was  refined,  feminine,  and  imperturbably 
self-possessed. 

These  two,  Mrs.  Evans  and  her  cousin  Azarian,  sat  in 
the  little  parlor  of  the  parsonage,  engaged,  each  of  them, 
with  their  embroidery,  and  chatting  after  that  easy,  unre- 
strained fashion,  which  the  female  heart  so  much  delights 
in.  About  the  fashions,  I  think. 

"Azarian,  how  did  it  happen  that  you  had  the  courage 
to  get  one  of  those  new  summer  bonnets?  I  dread  to  have 
you  take  it  out  of  the  bandbox,  the  gentlemen  do  so 
ridicule  them." 

"Indeed!"  said  Miss  Ridalhuber,  deliberately  counting, 
"one,  two,  three,  four  of  black,  and  five,  six  of  the  red. 
Cousin  Elise,  do  you  happen  to  remember  any  fashion  for 
the  last  ten  years,  and  I  presume  it  has  been  the  same  for 
ten  centuries,  which  the  gentlemen  didn't  ridicule?  Why, 
it  is  a  thing  to  be  expected." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  233 

"That  is  very  true,"  said  Mrs.  Evans.  "If  the  bonnets 
are  large  enough  to  cover  the  face,  then  they  are  hideous, 
and  scoops,  coal  scuttles,  etc.,  are  too  graceful  to  be 
compared  with  them.  If  they  are  small  and  set  off  the 
head,  Punch  immediately  suggests  that  the  next  fashion 
will  be  to  have  the  bonnet  carried  behind  the  lady  on  a 
waiter.  If  dresses  are  made  long,  they  sweep  the  mud  of 
the  streets;  if  short,  the  ladies  are  getting  impatient  to 
expose  their  ankles.  If  the  cloaks  are  loose,  they  are 
dowdy  and  inelegant;  if  tight,  they  make  it  impossible  to 
distinguish  between  males  and  females  on  the  streets. 
When  men  will  be  so  inconsistent,  it  is  foolish  ever  to  heed 
them;  but,  then,  one  can't  help  it.  Now,  Mark  exchanges 
with  Mr.  Linscott,  you  know,  on  Sunday,  and  couldn't 
you  put  off  bringing  out  the  summer  bonnet,  till  after 
that?" 

"Next  Sunday  will  be  the  first  in  June,"  said  Miss 
Ridalhuber,  composedly.  "I  never  wore  a  spring  bonnet 
in  June  in  my  life.  I  think  Mr.  Linscott's  coming  a  very 
good  reason  for  bringing  out  the  new  one.  It  will  make 
an  impression  on  him,  see  if  it  don't." 

"Of  course  you  know  best,"  said  Mrs.  Evans,  "but,  then, 
I  own  I  have  my  fears.  But  here  comes  Gladstone  up  the 
walk.  Look  your  sweetest,  Aza." 

Miss  Ridalhuber  did  not  seem  in  the  least  to  heed  the 
admonition,  but  went  on  with  her  counting  as  if  nothing 
were  about  to  happen.  Well  she  might;  for  her  toilet 
that  day  had  cost  her  an  hour's  effort,  in  anticipation  of 
this  very  event.  Her  hair  was  dressed  with  the  skill  of  a 
French  coiffeur,  and  with  a  simplicity  and  taste  which 
that  dignitary  would  never  have  imparted  to  it;  her  dress 
was  lady-like  and  elegant,  with  nothing  noticeable  about  it, 
except  its  richness,  and  a  rose-tinted  ribbon  at  her  throat, 
which  lighted  her  pale  face  with  just  the  faintest  and 
most  becoming  glow. 
K2 


234  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

As  Mr.  Gladstone  entered,  she  received  him  with  the  most 
elegant  grace  and  composure,  and  allowing  him  to  open  the 
conversation,  folio  wed  his  lead  with  skill  and  intelligence,  at 
the  same  time  carefully  preserving  her  own  subordination. 
Ah !  she  was  well  trained  to  her  part,  was  Miss  Azarian. 

She  touched  a  finer  key  than  ever  had  vibrated  in  Mr. 
Gladstone's  soul  before.  He  was  deeply  impressed;  he 
had  the  same  kind  of  admiration  for  her  that  he  would 
have  had  for  a  fine  painting  or  a  fine  statue,  with  the 
added  warmth  which  her  feminine  graces  inspired.  He 
sat  for  an  hour  drawing  her  out,  yielding  himself  to  the 
charm  of  her  liquid  voice.  Finally,  she  sang  for  him.  She 
was  thoroughly  trained,  and  at  his  especial  request  she 
sang  "Kathleen  Mavourneen."  There  came  a  moisture 
into  Mr.  Gladstone's  eyes,  and  a  trembling  about  his  heart- 
strings such  as  he  had  not  felt  for  years. 

As  he  went  out,  the  dusk  was  coming  on,  rosy  and  lucent ; 
and,  from  the  bush  at  the  door,  he  broke  a  half  blown  rose- 
bud, and  said,  with  a  grace  into  which  his  honest  heart 
infused  a  something  which  assured  Miss  Ridalhuber  that 
it  was  not  wholly  an  idle  compliment: 

"  Will  you  accept  it,  Miss  Ridalhuber?  It  will  bloom 
more  worthily  for  you,  than  even  for  the  stars  outside  here." 

She  took  it  with  a  tremulous  sigh  that  was  not  all 
feigned.  Few  women  could  resist  Mr.  Gladstone's  eyes, 
when  he  chose  to  make  them  effective,  simply  because 
they  were  honest  eyes. 

As  he  walked  down  the  flower-scented  path,  the  bright- 
ness of  the  dusk  fading  into  cooler  tints  of  pearl  and  gray, 
his  thought  still  lingered  about  Miss  Ridalhuber. 

"If  one  could  only  be  certain,"  he  said  to  himself,  "that 
she  had  a  heart ;"  and  there  went  a  little  thrill  through  his 
veins  as  he  thought  of  the  delicious  abandon  with  which 
he  had  seen  Lillie  Meredith  throw  herself  into  her  mother's 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  235 

"She's  a  little  goose,"  he  said,  "but  she's  a  very  fond 
one ;"  and  there  came  up  bitter,  regretful  memories,  and 
a  firm  determination,  whatever  else  he  did,  not  to  marry 
a  woman  who  had  no  heart. 

In  the  midst  of  these  reflections  he  reached  the  village 
store,  and  saw  Mr.  Darrell  on  the  steps.  The  sight  at  once 
recalled  business  to  his  mind. 

"  Good  evening,  Darrell,"  he  said ;  "  I  want  to  ask  you 
if  that  young  lady  clerk  of  yours  would  do  copying  forme. 
My  clerk  has  left  me,  and,  if  I  could  get  a  good  copyist,  I 
shouldn't  need  another,  just  now.  Would  she  iavor  me, 
do  you  think  ?  " 

"  Very  likely.  I'll  ask  her.  She  writes  a  good  hand  for 
your  purpose,  and  you'll  find  her  very  neat  and  exact,  and 
tolerably  rapid." 

"Just  the  thing.  If  she  is  agreeable,  you  may  ask  her 
to  call  at  my  office  to-morrow." 

"  I'll  do  so,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  and  they  parted. 

The  doctor  was  just  unhitching  the  old  gray,  preparatory 
to  starting  home  with  his  evening's  mail.  Seeing  Mr. 
Gladstone,  his  eye  at  once  took  in  the  fact  that  he  was 
dressed  for  calling. 

"H'm  ! "  said  the  doctor,  partly  as  a  guess,  partly  to  lead 
the  conversation  in  a  direction  that  suited  him.  "Been 
down — to  the — minister's  —  I  s'pose;  been  down  to  the 
minister's  ?  " 

Mr.  Gladstone  assented. 

"  That  Miss  Tiidalhuber  is  a  good  looking  girl,"  said  the 
doctor;  "pretty  —  good — looking;  but  she  hasn't  much 
money.  The  last  time  I  was  in  New  York,  I  asked  some 
questions  about  her.  The  family  has  had  money,  but  lost 
the  most  of  it.  The  father  drinks ;  the  sons  drive  fast 
horses.  The  daughters  have  got  to  get  married.  If  they 
can't  marry  in  the  city,  where  they  are  known,  they  must 
go  to  the  country,  where  they  are  not  known.  She's  a 


236  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

pretty  fair  looking  girl,  though.  Sings  well ;  sings — well; 
but — there — isn't — so — much — money — there — as  folks 
think." 

By  this  time  the  doctor  was  seated  in  his  chaise,  and 
had  taken  up  the  reins.  Mr.  Gladstone  made  some  remark 
about  the  weather,  to  which  the  doctor  assented  with  a 

"Yes — yes.     Go — 'long — Dorothy." 

The  doctor  had  never  told  this  story  of  his  about  Miss 
Azarian  before — would  never  tell  it  again,  perhaps.  He 
knew  very  well  that  Gladstone  would  not  repeat  it.  How 
did  he  know  so  well,  when  and  where  to  drop  those  few 
words,  sure  of  their  taking  effect  ?  Mr.  Gladstone  himself 
wondered,  but  could  not  tell.  The  truth  was  just  this.  The 
instant  the  doctor's  eye  rested  on  Mr.  Gladstone's  white 
waistcoat,  this  train  of  thought  ran  through  his  brain: 
"  Been  to  see  a  woman ;  wouldn't  put  on  a  white  waistcoat 
for  any  Wyndham  woman.  Miss  Ridalhuber.  He's  free, 
means  marriage.  She  means  marriage,  too.  "Flltell;" 
and  the  doctor  did  tell;  but  Mr.  Gladstone  was  a  little 
farther  gone  than  the  doctor  had  calculated,  and  found 
himself  speculating  as  he  walked  home: 

"  Poor  girl !  with  her  refinement  and  her  quiet  ways,  she 
must  have  a  hard  time  of  it,  if  the  doctor  is  right,  and  he 
always  is,  about  those  matters.  If  a  man  were  to  take  her 
out  of  such  a  home,  and  give  her  wealth,  and  position,  and 
love,  wouldn't  she  be  grateful  and  love  him  in  return  ?  " 

Mr.  Gladstone  thought  she  would. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  28T 

XXIII. 

MISS  RIDALHUBER'S  SUMMER  BONNET. 

Reba  rested  her  head  upon  her  hand  and  smiled,  when 
Mr.  Darrell  laid  before  her  Mr.  Gladstone's  proposition 
concerning  the  copying.  She  did  not  tell  any  one  what 
that  smile  meant,  but  it  is  very  possible  that  it  had  some 
connection  with  the  scenes  of  her  previous  acquaintance 
with  Mr.  Gladstone.  She  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  I  didn't  give  him  any  encouragement,"  said  Mr.  Darrell, 
"except  to  recommend  you  for  the  work;  and  I  shall  say 
nothing  more  to  you,  than  that  Gladstone  is  a  gentleman, 
and  will  treat  you  with  the  utmost  respect ;  and  if  you  can 
oblige  him,  it  would  be  pleasing  to  me." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Darrell,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  him. 
"  I  know  Mr.  Gladstone  quite  well  already,  or  did,  some 
years  ago.  He  must  have  forgotten  the  prejudices  of  his 
family  against  me." 

"  Reba,  I  think  Mr.  Gladstone  buried  a  good  deal  in  that 
grave  over  yonder,  besides  the  body  of  his  wife.  I  always 
liked,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  no  longer  dislike  him,  if  you 
will  only  hold  yourself  amenable  to  circumstances.  You 
don't  look  pleased.  Shall  I  tell  him,  no  ?  " 

Reba  had  at  first  felt  a  strong  disinclination  to  the 
arrangement,  but,  just  at  the  instant  that  she  was  about 
to  say  so,  a  sudden  impulse  controlled  her,  as  we  are  all 
sensible  of  being  controlled  at  certain  times  in  our  lives, 
and  she  said: 

"  No ;  I'll  try  it.  If  I  do  not  like  it,  it  is  easy  enough  to 
say  so  afterwards.  You  may  tell  Mr.  Gladstone  that  I  will 
call  at  his  office,  as  he  proposes." 

Reba  did  call,  in  that  instance;  but  afterwards,  Mr. 
Gladstone,  seeming  to  be  struck  with  the  improprietv  of 


288  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

treating  her  with  less  than  the  courtesy  he  would  have 
bestowed  upon  his  most  dignified  and  refined  lady  friend, 
always  delivered  the  manuscript  to  her,  either  at  her  desk 
at  Mr.  Darrell's  office,  or  at  the  house. 

It  was  an  evening,  early  in  June.  A  cold  north  wind 
prevailed,  and  the  little  circle  in  Mrs.  Darrell's  parlor  had 
drawn  around  a  bright  wood  fire  upon  the  hearth;  and 
were  already  settled  at  their  evening's  work,  when  a  visitor 
was  announced.  It  was  Mr.  Leslie  Slade,  who  had  a  way 
of  now  and  then  calling  at  his  employer's  house,  mostly 
as  a  pleasant  social  formality,  but  incidentally  with  a  view 
of  making  himself  agreeable  to  Miss  Maude,  now  a  tall, 
handsome  girl,  in  her  sixteenth  year. 

Concerning  this  same  Mr.  Slade,  there  had  been  more 
than  one  animated  discussion  in  the  Darrell  household. 
Laura  had  said  to  her  husband : 

"  Ralph,  now  that  our  girls  are  growing  up  to  woman- 
hood, I  do  protest  against  that  young  man  being  allowed 
to  visit  here.  He  is  not  a  fit  associate  for  Maude,  and  it 
would  be  a  great  satisfaction  to  me  if  you  would  give  him 
to  understand  that  we  think  so." 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  Ralph  had  replied,  "  I  don't  know ; 
few  young  men  are  immaculate.  Slade  is  of  good  family, 
and  good  breeding.  If  we  begin  to  make  distinctions,  it 
is  difficult  to  tell  where  we  shall  end.  If  he  were  at 
all  particular  in  his  attentions  to  Maude,  that  would  be 
different.  Of  course  I  should  interfere.  But,  to  tell  the 
truth,  he  is  useful  to  me  in  a  business  way,  and  I  don't 
like  to  offend  him." 

"  But,  Ralph,  when  a  young  man's  immoralities  are  the 
talk  of  the  town,  I  am  sure  it  need  not  be  difficult  to  draw 
some  line,  which  shall  leave  him  outside  of  it.  If  you  like 
him  in  a  business  way,  that  is  your  affair,  and  I  have 
nothing  to  say.  But,  then,  if  you  are  supreme  in  your 
office,  I  ought  to  be  equally  so  in  my  parlor." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  239 

"Very  well,"  said  Ralph,  "  quarrel  you,  with  Slade,  if 
you  will,  but  don't  ask  me  to  do  it." 

And  so  the  matter  rested;  Laura  only  waiting  for  a  good 
opportunity.  On  this  especial  evening,  Maude  was  not 
present,  and  when  the  'young  man's  form  darkened  the 
doorway,  Laura  formed  a  resolve,  which  she  found  means 
to  execute  before  the  evening  was  over. 

A  few  minutes  later  Mr.  Gladstone  dropped  in,  upon  an 
errand  to  Reba.  She  was  sitting  a  little  apart  from  the 
rest,  sewing  by  the  evening  lamp,  so  that  Mr.  Gladstone, 
as  he  seated  himself,  after  delivering  his  papers  to  her, 
found  himself  near  the  chimney,  with  Rebecca  in  the 
corner  of  the  room,  at  his  left.  Mrs.  Darrell  sat  exactly 
opposite  him,  in  her  handsome  easy  chair,  while  in  front 
of  the  fire  sat  the  master  of  the  house,  and  Mr.  Slade. 

Somehow,  into  the  light  social  chat,  which  at  first 
prevailed,  there  drifted  an  allusion  to  Miss  Ridalhuber's 
summer  bonnet. 

"  It  was  very  outrt"  Mr.  Slade  insisted ;  "  quite  hideous, 
in  fact." 

Mr.  Gladstone  thought  it  had  a  stylish  look ;  but,  then,  it 
was  certainly  a  little  too  striking  for  a  town  like  Wynd- 
ham. 

Mrs.  Darrell  had  no  opinion  of  her  own  to  offer.  She 
had  never  considered  herself  authority  in  such  matters, 
but  she  had  heard  one  gentleman,  at  least,  admire  the 
bonnet,  in  almost  unlimited  phrase.  He  had  characterized 
it  at  as  "  handsome,"  "  elegant,"  "  quite  out  of  the  common 
order,"  and  had  asserted,  that,  in  point  of  taste,  Miss 
Ridalhuber  was  "  a  lady  altogether  to  be  admired." 

"Who  was  that?"  cried  Mr.  Gladstone. 

"You,  Darrell?"  asked  Slade. 

"Not  I,  indeed,"  said  Mr.  Darrell. 

"It  was  Mr.  Linscott,"  elucidated  Mrs.  Darrell.  At 
which  there  was  a  general  exclamation. 


240  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Reba  only  adjusted  her  sewing,  and  smiled. 

From  that,  the  chat  flowed  on  to  woman's  dress,  in 
general.  Of  course  the  gentlemen  waxed  eloquent  con- 
cerning the  extravagance  of  women,  their  fickleness,  their 
bad  taste,  their  want  of  modesty  and  all  the  other  good 
old-fashioned  graces,  after  the  manner  of  men  in  general. 

But  Mr.  Slade  was  especially  emphatic.  At  the  close 
of  a  long  tirade  upon  the  extravagance  of  women,  he 
exclaimed : 

"  Why,  a  man  must  be  independently  rich,  now,  before 
he  dai-es  to  marry.  What  could  a  man,  on  a  salary,  like 
myself,  for  instance,  do  with  a  wife  ?  " 

Mrs.  Darrell's  time  had  come.  There  was  no  cloud  upon 
her  brow ;  her  voice  was  very  calm  and  even,  but  there 
was  a  "  sense  of  thunder  in  it,"  nevertheless. 

"  Mr.  Slade,"  she  said,  "  would  it  cost  you  more  to  support 
your  wife,  than  it  does  to  support  your  mistress  ?  " 

Mr.  Slade  grew  red,  then  pale,  then  red  again,  and  would 
have  looked  indignant,  had  the  blow  been  a  whit  less 
severe.  As  it  was,  he  presented  a  very  limp  appearance, 
and  merely  stammered  that  that  was  a  subject  he  did  not 
like  to  discuss  with  ladies,  and  taking  his  hat,  bowed  him- 
self out  of  the  room. 

There  might  have  been  an  awkward  pause,  if  Mr.  Glad- 
stone had  not  come  to  the  rescue,  by  saying  good  naturedly : 

"Mrs.  Darrell,  I  see  that  the  Woman's  Rights  Convention 
is  to  meet  very  soon,  and  I  suggest  that  the  ladies  of  this 
neighborhood  send  you  as  a  delegate." 

"With  very  sincere  respect  for  that  body,"  said  Laura, 
"  I  must  still  decline  the  honor  of  a  seat  in  their  meetings. 
When  I  take  the  field,  I  shall  not  join  the  mounted 
dragoons,  but  rather  organize  myself  as  a  light  artillery 
company  for  independent  service." 

"The  papers  wickedly  say,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  "that  'the 
dear  old  creatures  intend  to  demand  the  suffrage.' " 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  241 

"  If  women  had  the  right  of  suffrage,"  said  Rebecca,  "I 
think  the  papers  would,  at  least,  learn  to  be  civil." 

"Why,  Miss  March,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "would  you 
like  to  vote?" 

The  tone  was  precisely  the  one  in  which  he  would  have 
said  to  an  elephant:  "My  dear  sir,  would  you  like  to 
dance?" 

She  replied  with  an  inflection  equally  significant: 

"  Mr.  Gladstone,  I  shall  never  go  down  on  my  knees  for 
the  privilege  of  trailing  my  skirts  through  the  world's 
dirty  work.  For  woman  to  take  part  in  politics  as  they 
have  hitherto  been  conducted,  would  be  a  condescension. 
But  I  think  it  requires  no  very  remarkable  prophetic 
insight,  to  discern  a  prospect,  that  by  the  time  men  have 
practiced  for  a  few  years  longer,  admitting  all  that  is  low 
and  coarse  and  debased  to  the  polls,  they  will  have  brought 
politics  to  such  a  muddle  that  they  will  be  thankful  to 
entreat  the  more  refined  powers  of  the  nation  to  come  to 
their  rescue.  In  such  a  case,  I  would  not  be  hard-hearted." 

Mr.  Gladstone  raised  his  eyebrows  a  trifle. 

"I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "that  it  would  be  uncourteous 
to  tell  you  how  well  we  of  the  male  sort  have  so  far 
managed  without  you." 

"The  question  is,"  said  Laura,  "whether  you  have 
managed  as  well  as,  all  things  considered,  you  ought  to 
have  done.  Whether,  in  excluding  women  from  politics,  you 
have  not  done  yourselves  and  the  nation's  affairs  a  wrong, 
corresponding  to  that  which  is  manifest  wherever  else  the 
humane  and  unselfish  element  of  our  common  nature  is 
excluded.  The  politics  of  a  great  nation  ought  to  be 
something  broad,  unselfish,  elevating ;  but,  until  within  the 
past  few  years,  when  women  have,  by  force  of  their  innate 
persistency,  rather  than  because  of  much  courtesy  on  the 
part  of  men,  made  their  voices  heard  in  public  matters, 
have  not  the  affairs  of  this  nation  been  managed  in  a 
L 


242  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

narrow,  unenlightened,  illiberal  spirit,  attended  by  pro- 
verbial venality  and  corruption.  The  publication  of  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin,  marks  an  era  in  our  politics.  It  was  followed 
by  public  meetings  in  which  women  participated  as  spec- 
tators ;  and  at  last  by  large,  intelligent  and  enthusiastic 
assemblages,  who  listened  with  delight  to  the  utterances 
of  a  woman  upon  purely  political  questions.  From  that 
hour,  politics  took  a  more  celestial  hue." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  "that  right  here 
comes  in  a  very  useful  distinction.  So  long  as  the  politics 
of  the  country  had  reference  mostly  to  building  railroads, 
conducting  finances,  and  waging  war,  there  was  little 
cause  for  the  interference  of  women ;  but  now  that  we  are 
becoming  so  advanced  in  civilization,  that  legislation  is  as 
much  as  anything  a  matter  of  doing  justice  and  loving 
mercy,  the  women  of  the  nation  may  justly  have  as  much 
voice  and  influence  as  the  men." 

"Yes,  but  if  women  vote,  they  must  also  sit  upon  jurors' 
seats  and  judges'  benches.  I  hope  I  may  not  live  to 
practice  law  in  that  time." 

"  Now,  Mr.  Gladstone,  are  you  talking  badinage,  or  are 
you  talking  sense?"  said  Laura.  "  Suppose  ten  years  ago, 
when  your  dear  mother  was  living,  and  my  mother  was  in 
her  prime — " 

"  Oh  !  but  I'm  not  talking  about  such  women." 

"  It  is  precisely  about  such  women  that  I  am  talking. 
It  is  the  intention  of  the  law  that  none  but  good  men 
shall  sit  upon  a  jury;  why  not,  therefore,  particularize 
good  women." 

"But,  as  a  general  thing,  the  intention  of  the  law  is 
wofully  defeated;  especially  in  large  towns,  where  jurors 
are  drawn  either  from  among  the  loafers  and  hangers-on 
about  a  court  room,  or  else  from  among  business  men, 
whose  time  is  so  valuable  to  them,  that  they  will  agree  to 
anything  rather  than  be  kept  waiting  for  an  hour.  The 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  243 

matter  is  bad  enough  now;  don't  ask  us  to  complicate  it 
by  admitting  women." 

ftlt  seems  to  me  that  such  a  state  of  things  as  you 
represent  could  hardly  be  made  worse  by  the  admission 
of  women." 

"  Oh!  yes,  it  would;  we  should  never  get  a  verdict  then, 
for  no  one  could  possibly  imagine  that  twelve  women 
would  ever  agree." 

"  If  I  wished  to  be  witty,  I  would  say,  so  much  the 
better.  If  such  difficulties  beset  law  suits,  fewer  people 
would  engage  in  them;  which,  however  it  might  annoy  the 
lawyers,  would  be  better  for  mankind  at  large.  But,  to 
speak  seriously,  it  is  certain  that  women  cannot  find 
essential  justice  at  the  hands  of  juries  composed  entirely 
of  men.  Reading  up  this  subject  the  other  day,  I  wa& 
struck  with  an  observation  of  Chancellor  Kent.  'The 
law,'  he  says,  'makes  no  provision  for  the  relief  of  a  blind 
credulity,  however  it  may  have  been  produced.'  That 
single  sentence  pronounces  the  doom  of  woman  under 
the  law.  One  of  her  distinguishing  characteristics,  and 
the  one  from  which  spring  nearly  all  the  wrongs  that 
man  so  relentlessly  inflicts  upon  her  honor,  is  that  blind 
credulity  concerning  the  man  whom  she  loves,  which 
nature  has  implanted  in  her  bosom  expressly  for  the  man's 
true  use  and  benefit.  The  great  majority  of  married 
women  will  testify  that,  to  that  loving  credulity  which 
helped  so  powerfully  to  soften  and  abate  the  shocks  and 
disappointments  of  the  first  few  months  or  years  of  married 
life,  their  after  happiness  was  mainly  owing.  Yet,  it  is  by 
means  of  this  very  trait  that  the  licentious  man  works  the 
ruin  of  the  woman  whose  love  he  has  sought  and  won. 
But  in  those  cases,  it  is  notorious  that  the  law  falls  utterly 
short  of  affording  any  adequate  redress.  The  helpless 
woman  once  betrayed,  is  not  only  forever  undone,  but 
there  can  be  no  justice  meted  out  to  her  betrayer;  nor  will 


244  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

there  ever  be  till  intelligent,  conscientious  women  are 
permitted  to  assist,  both  in  making  and  administering  the 
laws." 

"But,  Mrs.  Darrell,  there  are  penalties  for  these  offences." 

"Yes,  so  far  as  a  man  is  injured  by  them,  he  can  gain 
redress.  The  father  can  sue  for  the  loss  of  the  daughter's 
services.  The  dominant  sex  must  not  be  let  to  injure  each 
other.  The  tax  payers,  too,  must  not  be  mulcted.  The 
man  must  pay  just  so  much  for  the  support  of  his  offspring 
as  shall  suffice  to  keep  it  from  the  poor-house.  But  for  the 
woman's  irreparable  loss  of  honor,  of  reputation,  of  all 
that  makes  life  dear  or  desirable,  there  is  no  shadow  of 
redress.  If  anything  more  than  this  were  needed  to  show 
the  selfishness,  the  utter  incompetency  of  men  to  make  just 
and  equal  laws  for  the  whole  race,  it  is  to  be  found  in  the 
fact,  which  every  mother  knows,  that  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary that  she  should  train  her  daughters  to  regard  the 
whole  male  sex,  outside  the  very  narrowest  limit  of  the 
home  ties,  as  the  rapacious  and  perpetual  foes  of  their 
personal  honor.  Men  make  great  ado  because  women  are 
publicly  uncivil  to  them  in  the  matter  of  accommodation 
in  railroad  cars,  and  all  crowded  public  conveyances;  but 
it  is  the  just  penalty  which  they  pay  for  belonging  to  a  sex 
which  so  persistently  upholds  the  right  of  every  man  to  be 
a  villain." 

"My  dear,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  "that  is  very  strong 
language.  I  beg  that  you  will  reconsider  it.  I  know  a 
great  many  men  who  live  lives  as  pure  as  any  woman." 

"No  doubt  of  it,  and  all  honor  to  them.  But  that  men 
in  general  are  as  pure  in  their  lives  as  women,  is  notori- 
ously untrue.  Innocent  women  are  seldom  the  seducers 
of  male  virtue,  whereas  we  all  know  how  common  it  is  for 
men  to  use  every  power  they  possess — money,  intrigue, 
the  tenderest  arts  at  their  command,  to  compass  the  ruin 
of  an  innocent  woman,  and  the  fact  of  their  having  done 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  245 

BO  is  no  disgrace  among  their  peers.  Moreover,  the  senti- 
ment in  favor  of  licentiousness  among  men  is  so  strong 
that  few  men,  even  among  those  of  immaculate  lives, 
would  not  consider  the  accusuation  of  always  having  been 
pure,  a  detraction  from  their  manly  attributes.  '  Oh  !  we 
know  about  these  things,  we've  seen  the  world,'  is  their 
language,  and  their  manner  purposely  leads  to  the  suspicion 
that  even  now  they  might  not  be  proof  against  temptation. 
Worse  even  than  this,  is  the  recklessness  with  which 
young  men,  mere  boys,  coming  fresh  from  the  pure  influ- 
ence of  mothers,  who,  perhaps,  have  had  too  much  rever- 
ence for  the  innocence  and  purity  of  youth  to  open  their 
eyes  naturally  and  healthfully  to  the  wickedness  of  the 
world,  are  inducted  into  the  grossest  and  most  revolting 
forms  of  vice.  And  the  process  is  so  universal  that  men 
of  character  and  sound  principles  shrink  from  interfering, 
on  account  of  the  sneers  and  ridicule  which  they  would 
inevitably  encounter.  Admit  women  more  freely  to  com- 
mercial circles,  to  public  meetings;  give  them  power  to 
speak  and  act  in  this  matter  on  an  equal  basis  with  men, 
and  society  would  soon  undergo  a  purification." 

"That  there  is  too  much  truth  in  these  charges,  Mrs. 
Dan-ell,  no  man  who  knows  the  world  can  deny.  But,  do 
you  imagine  that  pure  and  delicate  women  can  mingle  in 
the  cesspool  of  political  filth,  without  debasement?" 

"If,  in  the  rudest  scenes  of  war,  there  are  offices  which 
the  gentlest  woman  may  undertake  without  derogating 
from  her  high  position,  surely  there  ought  to  be  nothing 
in  the  peaceful  administration  of  public  affairs  which  need 
shock  or  contaminate  her.  But,  admitting  the  debase- 
ment which  has  fallen  upon  politics,  mainly,  as  I  believe, 
through  the  exclusion  of  women  therefrom,  the  necessity 
of  womanly  interference  becomes  only  the  more  apparent. 
Contrast  the  political  meetings  at  which  men  have  been 
the  only  speakers,  with  those  addressed  by  Anna  Dicken- 


246  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

son  and  attended  by  thousands"  of  the  most  cultivated  and 
intelligent  women  in  the  nation.  And  yet,  no  meetings 
were  ever  more  enthusiastic,  more  effective  for  every 
pure  and  good  purpose  of  politics,  than  these  have  been. 
Wherever  pure  women  go,  they  inspire  in  men  la  chivalry, 
a  delicacy,  a  refinement  of  bearing,  which  is  impossible  to 
them  under  any  other  circumstances." 

"Oh!  of  course,  the  world  has  always  acknowledged 
that  women  were  superior  to  men  in  certain  ways.  That 
is  no  new  truth  at  all." 

"Yes,  in  a  certain  highly  figurative  and  ideal  sense,  as 
the  very  farthest  stretch  of  poets  and  lovers'  license,  I 
admit  that  the  world  has  recognized  the  claims  of  woman 
in  this  respect.  Yet,  with  strange  obtuseness  of  intellect, 
man  has  ever  resisted,  to  the  utmost,  the  embodiment  of 
this  ideal  truth  in  fact.  He  will  freely  admit  that  his  wife 
is  his  better  half,  but  will  fight  to  the  death  her  claim  to 
put  her  goodness  into  practice  in  any  wide  or  general 
way." 

"Let  us  console  ourselves,"  said  Rebecca.  "Most  new 
truths  in  mind  and  morals  crawl  out  of  the  shell  of  some 
old  one.  The  hub-bub  is  always  great,  concerning  which  is 
the  true  bread  divine,  the  old  worn-out  form,  or  the  new, 
living,  moving,  sentient  being;  but  nobody  yet  ever  knew 
the  shell  to  prevail." 

"But  this  matter  of  self-arrogation  on  the  part  of  woman 
is,  I  think,  serious,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone.  "It  seems  to  me 
that  the  modesty  of  women  is  at  once  impugned  when 
they  begin  to  assert  their  own  superiority." 

"They  certainly  have  a  forcible  example  in  the  conduct 
of  men  for  the  past  six  thousand  years,"  replied  Mrs. 
Darrell.  "But,  more  than  that,  it  is  to  be  remembered 
that,  while  modesty  is  a  grace,  justice  is  a  virtue,  and  self- 
justice  the  very  base  of  all  virtues.  Until  women  can 
consistently  and  conscientiously  assert  their  own  rights 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  247 

and  dignities,  they  will  never  be  in  a  position  to  exercise 
that  influence  and  authority  in  the  world's  affairs,  which 
the  best  good  of  the  race  demands  that  they  should 
exercise." 

"It  is  the  way  of  reaching  that  position,  about  which 
we  differ.  I  certainly  honor  those  noble  women  who  have 
gone  at  work  silently,  and  achieved  such  triumphs  in  art 
and  science  that  men  have  been  forced  to  accord  them 
equality,  a  great  deal  more  than  I  can  those  braggart 
females  who  go  about  proclaiming  to  the  world  the  equality 
of  the  sexes,  and  never  doing  a  thing,  beyond  perhaps 
writing  a  stale  pamphlet  or  two,  or  issuing  an  annual  report 
that  nobody  ever  read,  to  prove  their  assertions." 

"Speech  is  silver,  silence  golden.  I  know  it  well.  But 
even  Solomon  framed  his  apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver; 
and  those  apples  of  gold,  what  were  they,  but  'a  word  fitly 
spoken ! '  And  by  and  by,  amid  all  this  clamor  of  talking, 
we  shall  hear  that  divinely  spoken  word.  Till  then  we  must 
have  patience  with  broken  utterances  and  half  truths,  which 
are  like  taper  lights;  good  and  useful  in  the  darkness,  but 
shrinking  into  their  true  insignificance  before  the  splendor 
of  the  dawn." 

"  Gladstone,"  said  Mr.  Darrell,  "if  all  my  wife  claims  is 
true,  I  should  suppose  the  Mormons  must  be  the  most 
spiritually  minded  men  living.  What  must  be  the  effect  on 
a  man  of  having  from  ten  to  forty  priests  and  spiritual 
helpers  in  the  house,  eh  ?  " 

"Very  much  the  same,  I  should  imagine,"  said  Laura, 
laughing,  "  as  going  to  church  for  edification,  and  hearing 
twenty  sermons  all  preached  at  once.  I  don't  think  that 
joke  amounts  to  much,  except  as  an  excellent  specimen  of 
the  kind  of  argument  of  which  most  men  think  the  subject 
worthy." 

"  But  it  really  does  seem  to  me,  Mrs.  Darrell,  joking 
apart,  that  these  new  doctrines  of  yours  upset,  altogether, 


248  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  good  old  ideas  of  woman  as  a  domestic  being;  the 
helper  of  man,  the  ministering  angel  of  the  fireside,  the 
meek,  gentle,  loving  refuge  of  all  the  troubled  and  oppressed 
spirits  that  seek  the  household  hearth  for  shelter." 

"  Not  by  any  means.  I  insist  on  all  these  points  as 
strongly  as  you  can.  But  I  wish  you  especially  to  notice, 
that  the  happiest  marriages,  and  the  happiest  homes,  the 
world  over,  are  those  in  which  the  woman  is  revered 
and  trusted  as  the  household  divinity,  instead  of  being 
debased  and  crushed  by  ancient  laws  and  superstitions." 

"  When  all  the  arguments  for  a  proposed  reform,"  said 
Reba,  "  are  based  upon  deep,  underlying  principles,  such 
as  Justice,  Truth  and  Love;  and  all  the  arguments  against 
it  are  drawn  from  superficial  circumstances,  precedent, 
prejudice,  expediency,  appearances,  it  is  easy  to  guess 
which  side  is  strongest,  and  must  in  the  end  prevail." 

"But  I  do  not  conceive  that  the  arguments  in  this  case 
are  so  shallow  as  you  intimate.  If  we  seek  the  authority 
of  literature,  it  is  all  on  the  side  of  the  traditional  idea  of 
woman.  From  Homer  down,  she  is  ever  the  creature  of 
inconsistencies ;  the  finer,  yet  the  weaker  being." 

"  Of  inconsistencies;  exactly  so,  because,  viewed  from 
man's  standpoint,  it  is  impossible  to  harmonize  woman's 
endowments  with  her  calling.  From  the  true  view-point, 
she  is  the  most  harmonious  and  perfectly  adapted  being  on 
the  face  of  the  earth.  But  let  us  look  at  this  matter  in 
detail. 

"  The  early  pagan  poets  were  religionists  as  well,  so  that 
all  through  their  works  are  to  be  found  intimations  of  the 
spiritual  endowments  of  woman.  In  Iphigenia  and  Cas- 
sandra, the  idea  is  alloyed  with  materialism.  The  Medeas, 
the  Hecates,  the  Clytemnestras  of  ancient  Greek  tragedy, 
are  revolting  to  modern  taste,  simply  because  they  lack  the 
tender  spiritual  element  which  we  instinctively  demand  in 
the  true  development  of  a  female  character.  The  Alcestis 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  249 

of  Euripides  pleases  us  iu  proportion  as  it  is  more  true  to 
this  standard;  and  in  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles  we  recog- 
nize the  perfection  of  female  character,  because  the  supreme 
grace  and  power  of  the  soul  assert  themselves  with  a  noble 
defiance  of  all  masculine  trammels  and  enactments.  In 
her  magnificent  disdain  of  Creon's  boasted  laws,  her  sub- 
lime appeal  to  the  absolute  fiat  of  Heaven,  and  her  uncon- 
querable allegiance  to  it,  the  character  reaches  its  highest 
pitch ;  and  it  is  in  this  attitude  that  it  has  stood  out  separate 
and  single  from  all  the  creations  of  the  heathen  poets,  for 
more  than  two  thousand  years,  as  fresh,  and  glowing,  and 
life-like  to-day,  as  when  the  plastic  essence  was  fashioned 
by  the  Master's  hand." 

"And  I  like  to  think,"  said  Reba,  "  that  the  conception 
of  Antigone  belonged  to  the  best  moralist  among  the 
heathen  poets.  It  was  Sophocles  who  wrote  that  magni- 
ficent strophe,  which  I  learnod  years  ago,  at  my  father's 
knee  :  '  Oh !  for  an  absolute  purity  of  word  and  deed, 
according  to  those  sublime  laws  which  have  the  heavens 
for  their  birth-place,  and  God  for  their  Author;  which  the 
dissolutions  of  mortal  nature  cannot  change,  nor  time  bury 
in  oblivion.  For  the  divinity  is  mighty  within  them,  and 
waxeth  not  old ! '  There  is  not  the  parallel  of  that  senti- 
ment in  the  whole  range  of  heathen  poetry.  It  is  ever  the 
broadest  and  ripest  minds  which  hold  the  most  advanced 
views  concerning  woman." 

"  You  have  certainly,  like  a  good  lawyer,  made  the  best 
of  a  bad  case,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone ;  "  but  it  is  still  true  that 
the  condition  of  woman,  under  the  rule  of  the  ancient 
Greeks  and  Romans,  was  that  of  a  slave,  as  both  history 
and  literature  abundantly  testify." 

"  The  old  Etruscan  women,  the  mothers  of  the  Roman 
Republic,  were  held  the  equals  of  their  husbands,  as  the 
sleeping  effigies  upon  their  tombs  to-day  bear  sweet,  though 
silent  witness;  and  the  fame  of  Spartan  mothers  is  still 


250  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

'familiar  in  our  ears  as  household  words.'  It  was  only  in 
the  later  and  more  dissolute  stages  of  the  old  civilization 
that  women  were  held  as  slaves;  and  then  the  races  so 
holding  them  were  themselves  ready  for  destruction.  You 
See,  God  has  never  left  the  sex  without  a  witness  of  its 
grand  possibilities,  and  the  promise  of  its  future  develop- 
ment. Did  you  ever  think  about  the  causes  which  led  to 
the  decay  and  fall  of  those  ancient  nations?" 

"  No  doubt  the  condition  in  which  they  held  women  had 
much  to  do  with  their  dissolution.  No  one  will  deny  that 
where  the  mothers  are  slaves,  the  sons  cannot  be  heroes." 

"  But  there  is  a  significance  not  only  in  the  manner,  but 
in  the  time  of  their  "downfall.  Christ  had  been  born  of  a 
virgin,  and  there  was  no  longer  room  in  the  foremost  places 
of  the  world  for  a  nation  which  did  not  reverence  women. 
So,  not  only  were  these  nations  swept  from  existence,  but 
their  destruction  was  accomplished  by  a  chosen  agent. 
Far  away,  among  the  forests  of  the  north,  God  had  raised 
up  a  people,  strong,  valiant,  irresistible,  the  very  foundation 
of  whose  sturdy  morality,  the  one  written  and  inerasable 
article  of  their  code  of  morals  was  reverence  for  women; 
and  the  Goth  and  the  Saxon  conquered  and  possessed  the 
earth,  because  the  mother  of  their  children  was  also  the 
divinity  of  their  home." 

"  The  philosophy  of  history  gets  a  new  reading  at  your 
hands,  Mrs.  Darrell,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone;  "but  we  are 
wandering  from  our  subject  of  the  testimony  of  literature 
concerning  the  character  of  woman.  I  am  waiting  to 
remind  you  that  Shakspeare,  and  Milton,  and  Goethe,  all 
take  the  same  view  of  woman ;  all  represent  her  as  the 
weaker  vessel." 

"  Thank  you  for  recalling  me.  The  pagan  poets,  as  I  have 
shown  you,  had  some  glimmerings  of  inspiration  upon  the 
subject,  and  are  to-day  admired  just  in  proportion  as  they 
recognized  the  native  nobility  of  woman.  The  Christian 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  251 

poets  at  first  struck  out  boldly  into  this  theme,  and 
sounded  a  fuller  chord  than  had  ever  been  struck  before. 
But  the  German  Reformers  were  essentially  masculine 
and  unpoetical  in  the  tone  of  their  minds;  and  swept  out 
with  the  Mother  of  God  and  the  sweet  saints'  faces,  much 
that  was  elevating  and  truly  spiritualizing  from  religion. 
Literature  was  quick  to  feel  the  new  influence.  The  spirit 
of  the  Troubadours,  of  Dante,  of  Petrarch,  of  Tasso, 
underwent  a  change.  Milton's  women  are  simply  abor- 
tions, and  are  so  recognized  by  critics.  Shakspeare's 
women,  as  confessed  by  the  mass  of  his  commentators, 
are  inferior  to  his  men,  for  the  reason  that,  noble  and 
beautiful  as  many  of  them  are,  they  are  mere  female  men; 
modifications  more  or  less  distinct  of  the  masculine  char- 
acter, and  never  so  much  as  intimating  the  possibility  of 
that  spiritual  insight  and  illumination,  wnich  is  the 
peculiar  characteristic  of  the  woman  soul.  Even  in  Queen 
Katherine,  who  is,  perhaps,  the  strongest  of  his  female 
characters  in  that  direction,  the  religious  sentiment  is 
simply  a  grace,  a  noble  habit,  becoming  her  queendom  as 
its  ermine  did,  and  never  the  mightiest  impulse  of  the 
human  soul;  the  subliinest  representative  of  the  Divine 
nature  with  which  humanity  is  endowed.  As  an  artistic 
conception  of  woman,  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles  stands 
far  before  any  Shakspearean  female  of  them  all.  Goethe, 
by  reason  of  his  constant  intercourse  with  women,  an 
intercourse  which,  if  it  were  too  indiscriminate  to  be 
justified  by  prudence  or  virtue,  must  have  been  more  or 
less  sympathizing  and  appreciative,  misses  by  a  hair's 
breadth,  the  luminous  secret  of  woman's  super-masculine 
endowments ;  and  that  plainly,  because  the  sensuality  of 
the  man  had  blunted  the  fine  perceptions  of  the  poet." 

"But  as  women  of  genius  have  appeared,  a  new  and 
better  light  is  thrown  upon  the  subject.  In  Jane  Eyre 
and  Lucy  Snow,  lacking,  as  they  do,  the  harmony  and 


252  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

grace  which  Shakspeare's  or  Goethe's  touch  would  have 
conferred  upon  them,  you  still  catch  distant  glimpses  of 
that  horizon  beyond  a  horizon  which  marks  a  woman's  life 
as  distinct  from  a  man's ;  and  in  Aurora  Leigh  and  the 
Duchess  May,  those  uncertain  apparitions  become  glowing 
and  delightful  certainties.  Woman  is  no  longer  only  a 
modification;  a  parasite  ;  but  a  distinct,  independent  soul; 
ill  fitted,  it  is  true,  for  the  rougher  uses  of  this  material 
world,  but  all  the  more  gloriously  endowed  with  the 
spiritual  graces  which  light  up  this  dim  twilight  sphere  of 
existence,  and  make  possible  here  below  some  faint  con- 
ception of  heaven's  ineffable  glory." 

"I  admire  your  eloquence,  Mrs.  Darrell;  but  I  still 
insist  that,  at  least  in  regard  to  Shakspeare,  I  cannot 
yield  the  point.  To  have  made  Juliet  pious  would  not 
have  improved  her  to  my  taste;  and  if  Lady  Macbeth  had 
gone  into  a  convent,  she  would  have  ceased  to  be  Lady 
Macbeth.  Why,  Mrs.  Darrell,  that  sleep-walking  scene 
in  Macbeth  is  worth  pages  of  religious  philosophy." 

"It  is  an  exquisitely  truthful  and  beautiful  portrayal  of 
the  terrors  of  an  outraged  conscience;  but  do  not,  I  pray 
you,  confound  moral  with  spiritual  issues.  Obfuscation 
of  the  masculine  intellect  upon  this  point  is  not,  indeed, 
uncommon.  The  strong  faith  in  the  Unseen  which  char- 
acterizes woman,  has  always  been  looked  upon  by  men  as 
weakness  and  fanaticism.  It  is  not  the  least  evidence  of 
the  genius  of  Sophocles,  that,  when  Antigone  puts  her 
faith  in  the  Unseen  Arm  against  the  tyrant  of  Athens 
with  the  world  at  his  back,  Creon  cries  out  that  she  is 
mad,  was  born  mad.  It  is  the  way  of  the  sex.  They  are 
sadly  deficient  in  spiritual  comprehension." 

"Joan  of  Arc,"  said  Reba,  "is  another  instance.  She  was 
burned  for  witchcraft  by  the  very  men  whom  she  had  saved 
from  a  great  calamity,  because  they  utterly  failed  to  com- 
prehend the  sanctity  of  the  power  by  which  she  wrought." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  253 

"But,  ladies,  I  must  beg  leave  to  remind  you  that  there 
have  been  men  in  all  ages  — poets,  prophets,  teachers — who 
have  equaled  any  of  your  sex  in  the  development  of  the 
inspirational  gift." 

"We  are  most  happy  to  be  so  reminded.  The  argument 
is  simply,  that  while  in  the  male  sex  the  intuitional  gift  is 
exceptional,  and*  mostly  accompanied  by  what  is  rightly 
termed  a  feminine  organization,  in  the  female  sex  it  is 
general ;  and  the  very  fact  that  so  few  such  men  have 
been  able  to  gain  recognition  and  appreciation  from  the 
age  in  which  they  lived,  the  majority  of  them  dying  on 
the  cross,  at  the  stake,  in  prison,  in  exile,  or  in  want;  is 
sufficient  proof  that  the  inspirational  gift  of  woman  could 
not  safely  be  developed  and  set  free  of  the  world  in  a 
rudimentary  stage  of  the  race.  But  since  Tennyson  and 
Longfellow  are  acknowledged  by  the  generation  in  which 
they  live,  instead  of  starving  in  a  garret,  while  their  books 
were  left  to  rot  on  the  booksellers'  shelves;  and  even 
Browning  is  neither  crucified  nor  stoned,  it  is  not,  perhaps, 
too  much  to  infer  that  the  day  has  arrived  when  woman 
may  safely  lift  up  her  voice  in  the  market-place,  and 
prophesy  and  preach,  without  fear  of  excommunication  or 
martyrdom." 

"  I  abandon  the  attempt  to  defend  myself  on  my  own 
responsibility,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  laughing;  "and  fall 
back  upon  the  logic  of  another.  An  English  writer  in 
one  of  the  reviews,  makes  use  of  an  argument  to  me 
new  and  somewhat  striking.  I  cannot,  of  course,  quote 
literally,  but  it  amounts  to  this.  In  studying  the  different 
classes  of  the  animal  creation,  it  becomes  evident  that 
the  progress  from  lower  to  higher  is  not  direct,  but,  so  to 
speak,  wave-like.  That  is,  that  the  culmination  of  the 
higher  faculties  precedes  the  highest  structural  type.  For 
instance,  among  quadrupeds,  the  horse  and  the  fox-hound 
are  nobler  than  the  baboon,  yet  the  baboon  is  nearer  man. 


254  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

From  tins  it  is  argued  that  woman,  though  nearer  the 
angels  than  man,  is  still  his  inferior  in  intelligence." 

"Now,  that,"  said  Reba,  "I  consider  a  gratuitous  insult." 

But  Mrs.  Darrell  smiled. 

"Let  us  be  patient,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "with  these 
superior  beings.  When  they  get  careering  on  their 
boasted  steed  of  Reason,  they  make  small  account  of 
such  trilling  circumstances  as  women  and  facts.  Let  us 
thank  them,  in  the  first  place,  for  according  to  us  that 
structural  superiority  which  we  have  so  long  claimed  in 
vain.  For  the  rest,  I  must  beg  you  to  listen  to  a  womanly 
statement  of  the  case. 

"Whatever  may  be  the  law  of  precedence  in  the  lower 
order  of  creation,  in  the  highest  class  it  seems  to  me  to 
be  very  plain.  The  distinguishing  characteristic  of  this 
class  is  not  Reason,  as  Dr.  Abercrombie,  than  whom  is  no 
higher  authority  on  the  subject  of  intellectual  phenomena, 
virtually  declares,  when  he  admits  that  if  the  argument  for 
immortality  be  predicated  upon  Reason,  then  can  no  man 
exclude  the  brutes  therefrom.  But  it  is  a  sense  of  moral 
accountability  and  worship. 

"  Now,  in  this  class,  spanning  the  entire  space  between 
the  brute  creation  and  the  Uncreated,  there  are  three 
orders — Man,  Woman  and  Angels.  We  are  scripturally 
informed  that  man  was  made  a  little  lower  than  the  angels. 
Will  anybody  pretend  that  man  or  woman  reaches  the  limit 
of  created  purity,  leaving  to  the  angels  only  a  structural 
superiority  ?  I  think  that  is  absurd  on  the  face  of  it." 

"  But  I  don't  see  that  your  reasoning,  after  all,  bears 
directly  upon  the  relative  position  of  men  and  women ; 
since  it  is  just  as  easy  to  say,  Women,  Men  and  Angels, 
as  Men,  Women  and  Angels." 

"  Your  friend  of  the  review  admits,  by  the  terms  of  his 
argument,  the  structural  superiority  of  woman.  But  if  he 
did  not,  the  laws  of  comparative  anatomy  settle  the  point. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  255 

Through  all  the  higher  forms  of  animai  life  the  female  ex- 
cels the  male  in  complexity  of  structure  and  fineness  of  use, 
and  is,  beyond  dispute,  the  more  complete  type  of  devel- 
opment. In  the  human  species  this  is  especially  true. 
Moreover,  in  point  of  religious  sense  and  spiritual  insight, 
the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  class,  it  is  so  con- 
spicuously true  that  woman  is  far  in  advance  of  man,  that 
the  best  minds  of  the  race  have  always  borne  testimony  to 
the  fact" 

"  Mrs.  Darrell,  one  would  like  to  know  the  limits  of  these 
assumptions  of  yours.  Would  you  have  the  goodness  to 
state  just  what,  if  any,  excellence  or  virtue  you  do  allow 
to  men  ?  Are  there  any  crumbs  which  we  may  make  bold 
to  pick  up  from  your  overflowing  table  ?  " 

"  Oh !  certainly,"  she  said,  laughing.  "  If  you  wish  my 
articles  of  faith,  here  they  are  : 

"  Credo — imprimis:  That  man  is  physically  the  larger, 
stronger,  and  altogether  more  imposing  being. 

"  That  this  fact,  together  with  the  predominance  of  his 
selfish  propensities,  an  endowment  entirely  fitted  to  the 
sphere  of  his  action,  gives  to  the  manifestations  of  his 
intellect  an  aggressive  force  which  is  superior  to  any 
similar  manifestation  of  which  woman  is  capable. 

"  That  the  distinctive  work  of  man  is  to  subdue  the 
earth ;  that  is,  to  make  the  material  creation  subservient 
to  the  wants  of  the  race ;  and  to  provide  the  elements  of 
che  home. 

"That  the  coarse  structure  and  predominant  selfish 
propensities  necessary  to  this  work,  are  incompatible  with 
the  purest  moral  and  spiritual  development.  That,  conse- 
quently, this  marks  the  inferior  or  negative  side  of  his 
nature. 

"Per  contra: 

"  That  woman  has  the  finer  and  more  enduring  physical 
structure. 


256  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  That  the  characteristics  of  her  mind  are  correspond- 
ingly pure  and  elevated,  rather  than  strong ;  while,  morally, 
the  predominance  of  her  unselfish  and  devotional  charac- 
teristics mark  this  as  the  superior  or  positive  side  of  her 
nature. 

"  That  her  work,  as  thus  indicated,  is  to  create  the  home, 
to  maintain  pure,  and  elevating,  and  spiritualizing  influences 
therein ;  and  through  the  peculiar  powers  which  belong 
to  her  sacred  oflice  of  maternity,  to  secure  to  the  children 
whom  she  bears,  strong,  and  beautiful,  and  harmonious 
characters. 

"  That,  beyond  this,  she  has,  in  her  best  estate,  a  mission 
of  purification  and  spiritualization  to  the  world  at  large, 
through  which  only  that  spiritual  perfection  of  the  race, 
to  which  we  all  look  forward,  under  different  names,  can 
possibly  come." 

"I  begin,  at  least,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "to  see  whereon 
you  rest  your  claim  to  the  equality  of  the  sexes ;  but  it 
seems  to  me,  that,  after  all,  there  must  be  practically  a 
head  to  the  family." 

"  Undoubtedly.  The  King  is  the  head  of  the  realm,  and 
ranks  the  Laureate;  and  the  poet  pays,  without  disgrace, 
his  loyal  homage.  Yet  the  King  is  never  so  kingly  as 
when  he  bows  the  knee  to  the  poet." 

"  It  is  a  good  deal  cloudy  to  me  yet,"  said  Mr.  Glad- 
stone. "  But  one  thing  is  plain  to  my  vision,  Mrs.  Darrell, 
and  that  is,  you  must  be  in  a  dangerous  condition,  with 
such  explosive  and  revolutionary  doctrines  seething  in 
your  brain.  I  advise  you,  in  a  friendly  way,  and  as  a 
measure  of  safety,  to  write  a  book,  and  give  them  vent." 

"  When  I  do,"  said  Laura,  gaily,  "I'll  give  you  honorable 
mention  in  it,  as  that  rara  avis,  a  man  who  can  hear  a 
woman  talk  "Woman's  Rights,  and  not  lose  his  temper." 

"  Oh !  you  see,  we  of  the  stronger  party  can  afford  to  be 
good  natured:  because, whatever  place  your  clever  theories 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  257 

and  ingenious  ratiocinations  may  assign  us  in  the  meta- 
physical scale,  in  practical  life  we  still  have  nine  points  of 
the  law  in  our  favor.  It  is  a  favorite  theory  with  men,  that 
might  makes  right,  and,  by  your  own  showing,  we  have 
still  the  might." 

"  Well,  you  who  believe  that  physical  might  is  greater 
than  moral  might,  stand  by  your  colors ;  and  as  soon  as  we 
can  get  our  foi'ces  trained  to  stand  by  theirs;  to  cease 
making  frantic  attempts  to  be  men,  and  to  be  content  to  be 
all  that  the  good  word  Woman  means,  we  will  fight  it  out 
squarely  with  you.  The  day  may  be  longer  or  shorter  in 
coming ;  but,  so  sure  as  the  world  turns  around,  it  will 
come" 

Laura  was  thoroughly  roused,  and  her  tones  rang  with  a 
martial  clangor.  Mr.  Gladstone  had  risen  to  take  his  leave, 
and  they  were  all  standing,  when  Reba  said,  sweetly : 

"  Let  us  rather  imagine,  that,  when  Woman  shall  have 
embodied  her  Ideal,  the  presence  shall  be  so  majestic,  so 
tender,  so  irresistible,  that  man  shall  gladly  bow  the  knee 
and  do  homage,  and  so  the  soul  of  the  old-time  chivalry 
shall  take  a  new  form,  and  walk  once  again  among  men." 

As  Mr.  Gladstone  stepped  out  under  the  open  sky, 
winning  him  upwards  with  its  stars,  her  words  lingered 
like  the  vibrations  of  a  silver  bell  upon  his  ear. 


258  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XXIV. 

A   PBOFK8SIONAL   VISIT. 

It  was  sometime  during  the  merry  month  of  May,  that 
the  old  gray  horse  began  to  make  daily  pauses  in  front  of 
Moses  Moss'  cottage.  It  was  Moses  himself  who  was  sick, 
this  time.  It  was  hard  to  tell  what  ailed  him,  except  that 
the  main  cause  of  it,  whatever  it  was,  was  whiskey.  His 
system  had,  perhaps,  got  overcharged  at  length  with  the 
miserable  stuff,  and  so  made  a  faint  and  feeble  reaction 
against  it. 

Therefore,  as  the  doctor  said,  Moses  was  "down. 
Some  feverish;  a  bad  breath;  pretty  feeble;  needs  tonics. 
Never'll  be  so  strong  again  as  he  has  been.  Moses  has 
seen  his  best  days." 

This  sentence,  so  oracularly  pronounced,  had  its  effect 
on  Moses.  He  lay  very  still  upon  his  bed,  was  peevish  and 
fretful  by  spells,  and  by  spells  thoughtful.  Having  his 
miserable  life  in  review  before  him,  perhaps.  Not  that 
Moses  had  been  an  outrageously  wicked  man.  He  had 
never  been  that.  He  was  an  honest  laborer,  making  every 
time  as  good  a  pair  of  shoes  as  he  knew  how  to  make ;  or, 
if  the  job  were  only  mending,  doing  that  with  equal 
conscientiousness.  He  was  a  kind  enough  husband  and 
father,  on  that  lower  sensual  plane  on  which  he  had  always 
lived.  He  tried  hard  to  keep  the  table  well  supplied ;  he 
would  go  without  a  coat  himself  that  his  children  might 
have  shoes.  Had  done  so  year  after  year  when  they  were 
coming  thick  and  fast  upon  him.  He  had  a  fondness  for 
his  wife,  too,  though  he  felt  that  she  was  too  far  above  him 
to  make  it  possible  that  he  should  always  be  level  to  her 
mood,  or  she  to  his;  but  the  love  of  his  youth  had  never 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  259 

died  wholly  out;  and,  as  year  after  year  passed  on,  it  burst 
out  now  and  then  in  some  unlocked  for  and  unpractical 
manner;  for  true  sentiment  is  always  unpractical,  whether 
it  blossom  in  the  poet's  verse  or  the  peasant's  ruder  deed. 
Nor  was  Moses  wholly  without  that  tender,  spiritualizing 
sense,  the  feeling  of  the  beautiful.  In  some  dark,  narrow 
crypt  of  his  brain  lay  the  germ  of  that  emotion;  but  it  was 
only  now  and  then  that,  thrilled  by  a  waft  of  wandering 
summer  air,  or  warmed  by  a  slant  beam  of  sunshine,  it 
sent  forth  an  indefinite  but  hungry  feeler.  At  such  times 
Moses  grew  ambitious,  and  with  a  noble  disregard  of 
expense,  brought  home  a  new  table  cover,  bright  with  all 
the  hues  of  sunset ;  or  a  shawl  for  his  wife,  whose  scarlet 
glory  made  her  lean  figure  the  one  conspicuous  thing  in 
the  little  gray  meeting-house,  among  the  flock  of  browns 
and  drabs  and  grays  there  congregated;  the  consciousness 
of  which  was  sure  to  destroy  the  edification  she  might 
otherwise  have  derived  from  the  services. 

But  farther  than  this,  could  it  be  said  that  Moses  had 
any  soul-life?  What  evidence  had  he  ever  given  of 
possessing,  more  than  a  dog  or  a  horse,  any  consciousness 
of  the  soul's  vast  inheritance  of  immortality;  or  of  the 
possibility  of  any  enjoyments  higher  than  those  of  the 
grosser  senses  ? 

There  is  one  type  of  woman  for  whom  I  have  admira- 
tion without  emulation.  Its  representative,  with  some 
bright  endowments,  and  a  more  than  ordinary  share  of 
purely  womanly  characteristics,  is  wedded  to  a  sensual, 
brutish  nature  like  this.  With  a  self-renunciation,  of  which 
the  unconsciousness  of  merit  is  the  most  wonderful  part, 
she  immediately  devotes  herself  to  the  task  of  placing 
herself  on  a  sympathetic  level  with  her  husband ;  to  the 
extinguishment  of  every  shining  charm ;  the  remolding  of 
every  attractive  trait ;  the  assimilation  of  every  fiber  of 
her  nature  to  the  low  and  groveling  type  of  the  man.  The 


260  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

ideal  woman  is  utterly  buried  in  the  coarse  reality  of  her 
life  and  duty.  But  behold  the  wonderful  transformation. 
These  gentle  feminine  graces  and  aspirations,  so  lost,  so 
buried,  reappear  by  slow  growth,  and  grotesque  apotheosis, 
in  the  sluggish  nature  of  the  man.  He  will  gain  heaven  at 
last,  mounting  by  the  sure  stepping-stones  of  that  devoted 
woman's  sacrifices.  And  so,  as  ever,  Woman  bears  the 
Christ. 

But  Mrs.  Moss  was  not  one  of  these.  She  had  the  true 
womanly  gift  of  spiritual  healing,  but  not  so  could  it  be 
applied.  In  these  days  of  inactivity,  and  of  being 
brought  face  to  face  with  death,  Moses  began  to  bethink 
himself  of  his  lost  chances.  He  had  laughed  at  "mother" 
often  for  going  to  church  so  persistently;  had  scolded 
sometimes,  because  she  "wasted"  so  much  time  reading; 
had  even  felt  that  if  she  had  been  less  occupied  with  her 
reading,  and  the  thoughts  it  engendered,  and  more  ready 
to  listen  to  his  story-telling  and  gossip,  that  he  should 
have  gone  less  frequently  to  the  tavern.  But  now,  looking 
back  upon  the  miserable,  fruitless  past,  he  began  to  wish 
that  he  had  staid  at  home  more,  and  read  with  mother. 
To  be  sure,  there  had  always  been  such  a  brood  of  children 
about,  that  the  home  had  had  few  charms;  but,  in  a  vague, 
regretful  way,  he  saw  that  while  he  had  had  a  man's 
freedom,  a  man's  superior  position  and  chances,  and 
mother  had  been  tied  at  home  with  these  children,  and 
kept  constantly  a  slave  to  their  daily  and  nightly  wants,  it 
was,  after  all,  she,  and  not  he,  who  was  the  strongest  'and 
bravest  to  meet  "life,  death  and  that  vast  hereafter," 
which,  even  to  Moses'  darkened  mind,  began  to  loom  up 
with  fearful  certainty  and  distinctness.  It  seemed  all 
wrong,  all  puzzling,  all  mysterious,  and  somehow  unjust,  to 
Moses.  And  when  he  had  got  so  far,  his  old  worn  body 
set  up  its  protest,  and  he  grew  peevish  again,  and  just  then 
the  doctor  called. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  261 

"H'm  !"  said  the  doctor,  feeling  his  pulse  and  taking 
a  survey  of  his  eye  and  skin.  "Not  much  better.  How 
—  does  —  the — medicine — affect  you?" 

"Don't  do  me  a  bit  of  good,  as  I  can  see,  doctor.  I  tell 
ye,  doctor,  I've  got  to  have  something  warming  before  I 
shall  get  over  this." 

"Pepper-tea.  Pepper-tea  is  warming,  A  little  pepper- 
tea,  not  too  strong,  might  do  you  good." 

Moses  swore  a  little.  "Pepper-tea,"  he  exclaimed, 
scornfully.  "  I  tell  you,  doctor,  it's  whiskey  I  want,  or  gin. 
If  I  could  get  a  good  horn  of  either,  I  should  be  right  up 
in  a  minute." 

The  doctor  whistled,  in  that  low,  meditative  way  of  his. 
"When  you  get  able  to  go  to  the  tavern  after  it,  it  will  be 
time  enough  for  you  to  take  the  whiskey.  Guess  I'd  let  it 
alone  just  now." 

Mrs.  Moss  came  in,  and  they  consulted  about  various 
minor  details  of  the  case.  Then  the  doctor  rose  to  go. 

"Doctor,"  said  Moses,  in  a  feeble,  whining  voice — it 
was  his  final  appeal,  "can'tf  I  have  just  a  drop  of  some- 
thing warming  ?  " 

"Ho  —  ho,"  said  the  doctor.  "When — old — Squire 
Mclntyre — was  a  farming  it  —  on — the — Nightingale  — 
Place,  he  was  mighty — tight — with  his  hired  men. 
Didn't  give  'em  half  enough  to  eat.  They  complained  to 
the  neighbors,  and  some  of  the  old  farmers  about  went  to 
the  squire,  and  recommended  him  to  be  a  little  more 
liberal.  'Men  —  a — mowing,'  they  said,  'wanted  a — 
little — something — warm — for  breakfast?  'Cod!'  said  the 
old  squire,  'I  don't  know  what  the  devil  they  want  hotter 
than  boiling  hot  .porridge.'  You  can  have  all  the  boiling — 
hot — porridge — you  want." 

The  doctor  shut  the  door,  and  there  was  no  more  to  be 
said. 

Mrs.  Moss  was  going  about  her  kitchen  with  a  nervous 


262  A  WOMAN  S   SECRET. 

jerk  in  her  motions,  and  a  nervous  flicker  in  her  eyes, 
which  the  doctor  was  not  slow  to  notice. 

He  was  not  in  a  hurry,  so  he  sat  down  and  began  to  talk 
with  the  woman.  The  doctor  had  not  spent  fifty  years 
prying  into  the  causes  of  things,  without  finding  out  the 
reason  that  women  are  usually  more  talkative  than  men. 
With  their  fine  nervous  organisms  and  sensitive  feelings, 
and  with  the  constant  strain,  and  wear  and  tear,  to  which 
the  peculiarities  of  their  life  subject  their  delicate  suscep- 
tibilities, they  would  die  if  they  had  not  a  vent  for  the 
nervousness  and  irritation  engendered.  The  doctor  knew 
very  well  that  a  good  talk  would  do  Mrs.  Moss  good;  and 
knowing  all  the  burdens  which  she  had  to  bear  in  these 
days,  he  considered  it  a  professional  duty  to  stop  and  give 
her  a  chance  to  have  it. 

"How  is  Theodore  getting  along?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"Theodore  is  doing  first  rate,"  said  his  mother,  proudly. 
"  There  ain't  a  better  boy  in  the  county,  if  I  do  say  it. 
He's  a  regular  staver  for  business.  He's  up  every  morning 
at  daybreak,  makes  the  fire,  gets  the  kettle  on  before  I 
get  up,  has  his  breakfast  by  sunrise,  and  is  off.  He  takes 
good  care  of  his  money,  too.  He  has  been  a  rough  boy, 
and  maybe  he  hain't  got  quite  so  smooth  an  outside,  yet, 
as  some  on  'em,  but  he's  true  blue  for  all  that." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  the  doctor,  "glad  to  hear 
it.  I've  always  thought  well  of  Theodore,  ever  since  he 
went  to  the  fair  for  me.  He  did  well  then,  did —  well.  I 
hope  he  will  always  do  as  well." 

"  If  there  didn't  nothing  trouble  me  more  than  Theodore," 
said  Mrs.  Moss,  "I  shouldn't  have  much  to  worry  about. 
But  here's  Moses;  he  is  twice  the  care  the  boy  is." 

"Moses  is  some  sick,  but  I  hope  he'll  be  around  again 
in  a  week  or  two.  He  is  pretty  peevish,  and  I  expect  is 
some  care;  but  he's  going  to  get  over  it;  going — to  get 
—over— it." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  263 

"  Yes,  and  then  the  first  thing  he'll  do  will  be  to  go 
right  back  to  that  tavern  and  fill  himself  up  again. 
Doctor,  you  know  I  ain't  one  of  the  complaining  kind. 
I  never  have  been.  But — you  know." 

"Yes,  I  know,  I  know,"  with  that  pensive  inflection 
which  gave  the  words  a  thousand-fold  more  meaning  than 
they  possessed  of  themselves.  "  I  suppose  I  know  some- 
thing what  it  is  to  live  with  a  man  that  drinks.  You've 
borne  your  burden  so  far,  Rachel;  you  ain't  going  to 
break  down  now,  are  you?" 

"No,"  said  Rachel,  a  dry,  choking  sob  in  her  voice. 
"  I  ain't  a-going  to  break  down.  1  ain't  so  strong  as  I 
used  to  be  before  I  had  all  this  brood  of  children,  but  I 
shall  hold  out  a  while  longer  yet.  But  I  wish  every  drop 
of  liquor  in  the  world  was  burnt  up." 

"You  are  over  tired  now,  Rachel.  As  you  say,  you 
are  not  so  strong  as  you  used  to  be.  After  a  few  years 
you'll  feel  better  than  you  do  just  now.  It's  the  turning 
point  with  you.  You'll  get  beyond  that,  and  then  you'll 
get  settled  again.  You  must  remember  that,  and  not 
give  way  too  much.  As  for  the  liquor,  the  liquor  isn't  to 
blame.  Liquor  is  good  enough  in  its  place ;  good  for 
medicine;  good  in  cases  of  great  fatigue  or  unusual 
exposure.  It's  the  men  that  are  to  blame.  The  liquor 
isn't  to  blame,  but  some  men  are  awfully  depraved  in  the 
use  of  it.  I've  seen  women  that  were  pretty  hard  drinkers, 
but  it  isn't  natural  to  them.  They  are  fine  grained,  and 
they  can't  stand  it  They  burn  out  too  fast.  But  men 
will  drink,  if  their  animal  passions  crave  drink,  and  all  the 
Maine  laws  in  the  world  won't  stop  them.  People  have 
got  to  stop  fighting  the  liquor,  and  fight  the  brutal  natures 
of  the  men  instead.  Moses  ought  to  go  to  meeting;  he 
ought  to  read  the  papers  more.  If  Theodore  would  sub- 
scribe for  some  good  political  paper  for  a  year,  and  you 
would  read  it  aloud  to  him — the  children  have  got  out  of 


264  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  way  now,  so  you  can — it  would  keep  him  away  from 
the  tavern,  more  than  the  Maine  law.  Kind  o'  court  him 
up  again,  Rachel.  Make  him  feel  that  he  don't  want  to 
go  anywhere,  where  you  can't  go,  too.  Women  can  do 
that;  they  know  how;  God  made  'em  the  way  he  did  on 
purpose  for  the  business.  Kind  o'  court  him  up  a  little, 
now  that  you  are  getting  old  together,  and  Moses  will  see 
better  days  than  he  has  ever  seen.  Never'll  be  so  strong 
again,  but  he'll  be  a  better  man. 

"  Above  all,  Rachel,  don't  you  get  discouraged.  When 
a  woman  gets  discouraged,  the  house  goes  to  ruin,  sure 
enough." 

There  were  tears  in  Rachel's  eyes,  and  she  wiped  her 
hands  out  of  the  dishwater  and  stepped  forward  and 
shook  hands  with  the  doctor. 

"Doctor,"  she  said,  "I'll  remember  every  word  of  this, 
and  it  shall  all  be  done.  Seems  as  if  I  never  got  to  any 
sore  pinch  in  my  life,  but  what  you  stood  ready  to  help 
me  out.  I  can't  pay  you  for  it,  but  God  will." 

The  doctor  dropped  his  head,  and  left  the  house  with- 
out another  word;  but  very  deep  down  in  his  heart  some 
tender  feeling,  for  a  moment,  stirred. 

"I'm  a  dry  old  stick,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  Odd,  maybe; 
the  young  folks  all  seem  to  think  I'm  odd;  but  I  do  — 
believe, — there  are  two  —  or — three  —  old — women  that 
set  by  me,  and  would  miss  me  if  I  was  gone." 

Then  the  doctor,  sitting  behind  the  old  gray,  the  reins 
hanging  loose  in  his  hands,  and  riding  away  over  the 
wind-swept  hills,  meditated  and  wondered.  Meditated 
more  and  wondered  less  than  he  had  five-and-thirty  years 
ago,  when  he  had  first  ridden  about  from  one  to  another 
of  these  low,  gray  fai-m  houses ;  but  still  meditated  and 
wondered.  The  doctor  said  to  himself: 

"When  a  female  bird  is  sitting  on  her  eggs,  the  male 
bird  goes  abroad  in  search  of  food  for  her,  and,  coming 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  265 

home,  sits  on  a  twig  hard  by  the  nest,  and  sings  his  best 
song.  When  a  woman  is  having  her  children  and  bringing 
them  up,  her  husband,  when  his  day's  work  is  done,  as 
like  as  any  way,  goes  to  a  tavern  or  a  worse  place,  to  get 
rid  of  his  time.  She  can't  cultivate  her  mind,  and  he 
won't,  and  their  old  age  is  likely  to  be  a  pretty  barren  one. 
If  men  hadn't  got  such  a  notion  of  shutting  women  out 
of  all  kinds  of  business  in  which  they  are  themselves 
engaged,  it  would  be  better  for  them,  in  my  opinion.  It 
isn't  profitable  for  men  to  be  alone  now,  more  than  it  was 
in  the  Garden.  If  they  are  alone  in  their  business,  they 
grow  coarse  and  selfish,  and  dishonest ;  they  run  wild 
with  speculation,  and,  very  likely,  in  the  end  turn  out 
defaulters.  If  they  are  alone  in  their  places  of  recreation, 
they  sink  from  ale-houses  and  billiard- saloons  to  houses 
whose  steps,  true  enough,  lay  hold  on  hell. 

"The  Lord  —  knew — just — what — kind — of  an  animal 
— he  had  made — when  he  said,  *  It  —  isn't — good — for 
man — to  be  alone.'" 


266  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XXV. 

THE    FIRST    LAW    OF    COURTSHIP. 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  not  conscious  of  any  particular  change 
in  his  intellectual  convictions,  resulting  from  that  evening's 
conversation ;  and  yet,  in  a  way  which  he  scarcely  recog- 
nized, there  was  a  certain  expansion  of  bis  views,  and  a 
letting  in  of  light,  upon  some  dingy,  cob-webbed  corners 
of  his  mind,  which  was  very  salutary. 

He  had  always  felt  a  peculiar  and  tender  rererence  for 
good  women ;  but  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  a 
broad  and  thorough  intellectual  training  would  add  very 
much  to  their  worth.  He  had  rather  thought  of  it  as 
something  which  women  did  not  need ;  were  above,  he 
might  have  said,  had  no  woman  challenged  his  combative- 
ness,  by  asserting  that  fact  before  him.  And,  as  I  said, 
he  was  not  conscious  of  any  change  in  his  opinions  now; 
but  a  single  practical  result  told  the  story.  From  that 
time  forth,  he  never  again  thought  of  Lillian  Meredith  as 
his  wife. 

But  Miss  Ridalhuber  ?  He  hadnotquite  settled  his  doubts 
yet,  as  to  whether  that  lady  was  capable  of  a  strong  and 
pure  affection. 

Meantime,  a  little  incident  occurred.  At  the  close  of  a 
hot  June  day,  Reba  called  at  the  office  to  return  a  parcel 
of  papers.  A  little  weariness,  a  good  deal  of  lassitude, 
consequent  upon  the  sudden  coming  of  summer,  gave  a 
droop  to  her  eyelids,  and  a  pliancy  to  her  form,  which  had 
a  certain  tender  grace  of  their  own,  and  which  caught  at 
once  Mr.  Gladstone's  eye. 

"Have  you  anything  more  for  me?"  she  asked. 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  looking  at  her  with  honest  eyes 
of  sympathy  and  kindness. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  267 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  not  this  evening.  There  was  a  little 
matter,  but  you  look  too  tired.  Will  you  take  these 
flowers?  A  lady  brought  them  to  me;  but  they  are 
wasting  their  fragrance  on  my  masculine  robustness.  I 
think  they  will  revive  you." 

The  kind  tones  touched  a  tender  place  in  Reba's  heart, 
and  she  looked  up  to  him  with  eyes  full  of  gratitude  and 
appreciation. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  frankly,  and  then  her  eyes 
dropped. 

That  sudden  suffusion  of  her  face  with  light,  had  been  a 
revelation  to  Mr.  Gladstone ;  and  he  was  feasting  his  eyes 
upon  it  in  a  way  which  called  the  color  to  her  cheek.  He 
held  out  his  hand  to  her,  to  say  good-by,  and  the  light 
trembling  touch  of  hers  lingered  in  his  memory,  a  twin 
token  to  the  eyes'  soft  shining,  for  many  an  hour  after- 
ward. 

"  That  was  true  feeling,  tenderly  expressed,"  he  said. 
"  I  would  like  to  win  that  look  into  her  face  again." 

Reba  was  a  little  provoked  at  herself  as  she  walked 
home.  "  How  dared  he  be  so  gentle,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"  and  yet  it  was  only  courteous.  And  I  was  so  foolish  as 
to  be  touched  by  it,  and — Idonotknow — but  I  am  afraid, 
to  show  it,  too.  I  must  be  more  cautious  in  future." 

It  is  a  curious  study  to  watch  how  simply  and  certainly 
two  hearts,  naturally  akin,  if  all  adventitious  barriers  are 
removed,  will  find  each  other  out. 

Mr.  Gladstone  called  on  Miss  Ridalhuber  that  very 
evening.  He  had  no  thought,  as  he  walked  down  the 
flowery  lane  which  led  to  the  parsonage,  but  he  should 
find  her  just  as  fascinating  as  ever.  She  was,  in  truth, 
looking  very  sweetly;  but  the  peculiar  charm  of  her 
manner  had  somehow  vanished.  Her  tones  were  just 
as  melodious,  but  his  heart-strings  did  not  once  thrill 
under  her  sorcery.  He  had  the  taste  of  true  honey  on  his 


268  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

tongue,  and  no  counterfeit  sweetness  could  deceive  him 
now. 

When  he  bade  her  good  evening  there  was  not  a  trace  in 
his  manner  of  that  impressment  on  which  she  had  built  so 
many  hopes.  He  bowed  his  adieux,  and  walked  away  as 
coolly  as  he  might  have  from  the  banker's  desk  where  he 
had  just  deposited  his  day's  overplus. 

Miss  Ridalhuber  felt  it,  and  said  to  herself:  "It  is, 
then,  only  a  flirtation."  Ten  minutes  later  she  observed 
to  Mrs.  Evans : 

"  Elise,  dear,  how  many  days  does  rural  etiquette  allow 
us,  before  returning  Mrs.  Linscott's  visit?  " 

"  It  is  quite  optional  with  us,"  said  Mrs.  Evans,  "  to  go, 
or  not.  It  is  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  to  Jericho." 

"Ah  !  "  said  Miss  Ridalhuber,  a  little  regretfully. 

"But,  then,  if  you  would  like,  we  may  go  all  the  same." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Miss  ^Ridalhuber.  "  It  would  be 
taking  too  much  trouble.  Elise,  is  Mr.  Evans  going  to 
have  a  picnic  for  the  Sabbath  School,  on  the  Fourth  of 
July?" 

"  It  would  be  delightful.    I'll  propose  it  to  him  at  once." 

"  Oh  !  not  from  me.  I  thought  country  people  always 
did  celebrate  that  anniversary  in  some  such  way." 

The  Sabbath  School  picnic  was  settled  upon,  and  Mr. 
Linscott  was  invited  to  be  present  and  deliver  the  address. 
Miss  Ridalhuber,  you  see,  was  an  industrious  creature,  and 
wasted  no  time  in  vain  regrets. 

Meantime,  Mr.  Gladstone  was  pursuing  that  resolve  of, 
his,  to  win  back  the  tender  look  into  Rebecca's  face.  He 
had  no  serious  ulterior  intention  in  the  matter.  He  did 
not  speculate  about  her ;  his  dreams  were  confined  to  the 
single  point  of  recalling  her  face  as  she  looked  up,  with 
tender,  beaming  eyes,  to  thank  him  for  the  flowers.  Yet, 
as  he  met  her,  from  day  to  day,  there  was  an  insidious 
tenderness  and  delicacy  in  his  manner  toward  her,  which 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  269 

he  had  not  often  brought  to  bear  upon  any  other  woman. 
His  voice  softened  when  he  addressed  her;  his  look  grew 
tenderer  when  it  rested  upon  her,  as  it  often  did,  till  the 
color  involuntarily  deepened  on  her  cheek ;  and  his  very 
fingers  dropped  caresses,  as  they  touched  the  dainty  manu- 
scripts which  she  brought  him. 

In  all  the  world,  I  think,  there  is  not  a  more  selfish 
being  than  a  man,  when  he  takes  this  kind  of  light, 
inconsequent  fancy  for  a  woman.  A  coquette,  even,  is 
less  despicable ;  because,  when  the  weak  practices  upon 
the  strong,  we  confess  to  a  kind  of  retributive  justice; 
but  when  the  strong  takes  advantage  of  the  weak,  there  is 
meanness  added  to  wrong-doing.  The  man  knows — do 
not  ask  me  how  —  a  thousand  and  one  tender  arts  of 
which  she  is  innocent;  and  he  uses  them  all  without  scruple, 
to  entrap  her  into  some  manifestation  of  feeling,  and  then, 
when  he  has  found  how  her  face  lights  up  with  the  love- 
smile  on  it — that  is  all  he  wanted  to  know.  He  trims  his 
sail  to  other  breezes,  and  is  off,  leaving  her  to  lay  the 
spirits  he  has  raised  as  best  she  may. 

Abraham  Gladstone  was  not  a  man  to  do  this  thing  in 
any  other  than  a  thoughtless  way.  Yet,  if  you  had  asked 
him,  at  that  stage  of  the  acquaintance,  what  were  his  inten- 
tions toward  Rebecca,  he  would  have  answered  you  at 
once,  and  honestly,  that  he  had  no  intentions — none  what- 
ever. If  Rebecca  had  yielded  to  his  advances,  as  nine  out 
often  untried  women  would  have  done;  opening  her  heart 
as  naturally  and  as  purely  to  his  smiles,  as  a  flower  opens 
to  the  sun,  he  would  have  some  day  been  a  little  shocked, 
and  then  her  fate  would  have  hung  upon  a  thread.  If  he 
had  had  nothing  better  to  do  at  that  moment,  and  the 
fates  had  been  propitious,  he  might  have  made  genuine 
love  to  her;  otherwise,  he  would  have  kissed  his  finger-tips 
and  said  good-by  to  her  so  airily,  that  she  would  have 
loved  him  for  the  grace  of  his  departure,  if  for  nothing  more. 


270 


A  WOMAN  S    SECRET. 


But  Rebecca,  whatever  her  personal  feelings  may  have 
been,  had  very  good  reasons  for  not  encouraging  Mr. 
Gladstone's  demonstrativeness.  The  more  he  grew 
appreciative,  the  more  she  grew  coy,  till  at  last  Mr.  Glad- 
stone became  very  sensible  that,  while  she  ever  accepted 
his  kindness  most  graciously,  there  was  a  certain  line  which 
he  could  never  pass  without  suddenly  letting  in  upon  him- 
self a  very  chilling  draught. 

And  yet,  he  had  once  seen  the  way  straight  down  to 
her  heart.  Mr.  Gladstone  began  to  feel  as  if  the  happiness 
of  his  lifetime  depended  upon  his  catching  again  that  star- 
beam,  and  following  it  to  its  source.  From  calling  at  Mr. 
DarreU's  on  business,  it  came  to  his  calling  for  pleasure ; 
instead  of  bringing  always  law  papers,  he  brought  some- 
times literary  papers ;  till  Mrs.  Darrell,  with  a  woman's 
quick  perceptions,  saw  plainly  that  he  had  commenced  to 
lay  regular  siege  to  Rebecca's  heart.  But  between  the 
two  women  a  singular  confidence  existed.  Since  the 
night  of  their  long  conversation  concerning  Rebecca's 
history — a  conversation  which,  however  free  it  had  been 
concerning  general  outlines,  had  included  no  details  of 
name  or  place — not  a  word  had  been  spoken  on  the  sub- 
ject, except,  perhaps,  an  indirect  allusion  now  and  then. 
Rebecca  was  not  a  woman  who  could  be  talkative  about 
her  own  experiences,  whether  they  were  sad  or  joyful. 
The  deepest  feelings  of  her  heart  ever  concealed  them- 
selves, and  Mrs.  Darrell,  with  true  respect  and  noble  trust, 
took  with  love  whatever  her  friend  offered,  and  asked  for 
nothing  more.  Therefore,  though  she  had  an  intense 
interest  to  know  Rebecca's  feelings,  she  never,  by  word  or 
deed,  alluded  to  the  circumstance  of  Mr.  Gladstone's 
attentions,  or  remarked  his  coming  as  if  it  were  at  all  out 
of  the  common  way. 

And  Rebecca  herself — she  had  had,  as  we  know,  a  little 
prejudice  against  Mr.  Gladstone,  during  her  early  acquaint- 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  271 

ance  with  him;  and  this,  when  she  had  first  agreed  to  act 
as  his  copyist,  it  had  been  her  firm  and  rather  perverse 
determination  to  retain.  But,  somehow,  during  the  first 
week  of  her  engagement,  this  had  imperceptibly  vanished, 
till  now  not  a  vestige  of  it  remained.  He  was  an  honest 
man,  a  courteous  and  refined  gentleman.  She  respected 
him  thoroughly.  So  much  before  her  fears  were  startled. 
When  he  surprised  her  with  his  kindness,  her  woman's 
heart  gave  a  little  flutter,  but  she  said  to  it:  "Be  still,  fond 
thing;  you  are  dead,  and  have  no  right  to  be  stirring  in 
your  deep-made  grave."  She  took  out  the  invisible  weeds 
which  she  had  worn  years  ago,  and  draped  herself  with 
them,  and  Mr.  Gladstone  felt  them.  "When  Mr.  Gladstone 
commenced  to  visit  her  as  a  suitor,  she  knew  it  very  well, 
but  she  said  in  scorn  of  her  old  self,  "my  heart  waken  to 
the  tread  of  a  lover  again!  It  is  absurd."  But  it  just 
then  occurred  to  her  how  differently  she  had  felt,  when  she 
knew,  by  that  unerring  insight  which  the  bitter  experi- 
ences of  the  past  had  taught  her,  that  Mr.  Linscott  had 
leanings  toward  her.  Then  she  had  said,  and  with  calm 
pulses,  too,  that  she  should  never  marry.  Now,  alas ! 

I  think,  at  this  stage,  she  must  have  had  a  good  cry.  I 
do  not  know  how  a  woman,  so  tried  and  perplexed,  could 
maintain  her  outward  equilibrium  and  composure  as  she 
did,  without  that  secret  relief.  And  even  then,  she  had 
not  quite  strength  to  put  her  heel  upon  this  new  tender- 
ness and  crush  it,  as  something  within  her  told  her  she 
ought;  but  just  went  on,  day  after  day,  taking  up,  when 
Mr.  Gladstone's  back  was  turned,  the  manna  his  presence 
had  dropped,  and  feeding  on  it  in  secret.  Yet,  all  the  time 
persuading  herself — this  weak,  fond  woman — that  she  was 
not  going  to  allow  him  to  address  her,  or  herself  to  feel 
any  tenderness  for  him. 

In  this  life,  who  can  tell  what  is  fate  and  what  is  free- 
will? how  much  we  do  for  ourselves,  and  how  much  the 


272  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

power  that  ordains  our  lot  does  for  us  ?  Blessed  thought, 
that  our  lives  and  His  are  so  closely  interwoven  that  only 
Infinite  Wisdom  can  mark  the  dividing  line. 

Wyndham  possessed  unusual  facilities  for  picnioing. 
Within  easy  access  of  the  town,  but  still  sufficiently  remote 
for  solitude  and  freedom,  a  tiny  lake,  blue  as  the  sky,  lay 
nestled  among  the  meditative  hills.  Ancient  woodlands 
stretched  down  the  neighboring  hill-slopes,  and  peeped 
over  the  very  brim  into  the  shining  mirror  below ;  a  vanity 
of  which  ancient  trees  are  not  the  sole  example  among 
ancient  things.  Here  birds  sang  and  squirrels  chattered, 
quite  undisturbed,  except  that  occasionally  during  the 
summer  social  parties  were  formed  at  the  village,  who 
drove  out  in  great  wagons  and  spent  the  day  in  a  frolic 
under  the  green  boughs  of  the  venerable  maples  and 
hickories.  At  last,  public  liberality  bestirred  itself,  and 
cleared  up  an  acre  or  so  of  underbrush,  and  laid  a  platform 
for  dancing,  and  built  a  small  rostrum  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  the  American  Eagle,  or  his  representative,  on  the 
Fourth  of  July  and  thereafter  the  picnic  ground  became 
as  much  a  public  institution  as  the  bank  or  the  meeting- 
house. 

Thither,  on  this  Fourth  of  July,  which  we  are  about  to 
celebrate,  the  Sabbath  school  of  Wyndham,  accompanied 
by  the  grave  and  reverend  seigniors  of  the  town,  and  the 
scarcely  less  grave  and  reverend  juniors — for,  in  Yankee 
towns  it  is  generally  the  young  people  who  lead  — 
repaired  in  dignified,  yet  jocund  procession,  to  mingle 
recreation  with  historic  memories  and  grandiloquent 
prophesies. 

A  great  many  people  manage  to  enjoy  themselves  in  the 
world,  but  none,  that  I  know  of,  with  such  a  solemn, 
responsible  sense  of  the  fact,  as  New  Englanders.  A 
picnic  in  ISTew  England,  at  which  religion  and  politics  and 
temperance,  and  that  highly  necessary  and  important 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  273 

espionage  of  public  morals,  which  the  irreverent  call 
scandal,  were  not  the  chief  and  prominent  interests  main- 
tained, would  be  an  anomaly.  Make  sure  of  these  things, 
then  slip  in  your  little  amusements  here  and  there,  as  you 
find  occasion.  You  have  then  an  entertainment  which 
may  or  may  not  prove  a  recreation  and  a  pleasure,  but 
which,  at  all  events,  upholds  the  reputation  of  your  town 
for  morals. 

The  day  of  this  especial  picnic  was  fair  and  fine  as 
could  be  desired.  A  cloudless  sky;  a  warm,  though  not 
oppressive  sun ;  and  a  quiet  breeze  curling,  but  not  crisp- 
ing, the  shimmering  surface  of  the  pond.  The  grove,  cool 
and  fresh  as  purest  dew  and  balmiest  air  could  make  it, 
but  purged  now  of  any  dampness  by  the  fervent  sun,  blos- 
somed out  suddenly  at  a  certain  hour  of  the  midday  with 
some  scores  of  grave,  puritanical  little  folks,  mostly  in 
white  muslin,  with  green  wreaths  and  pink  roses  on  their 
hats,  while  a  dignified  and  orderly  assemblage  of  their 
elders  kept  due  watch  and  ward  over  them;  they,  in 
their  turn,  being  well  kept  and  guarded  by  two  or  three 
clergymen  in  solemn  sable,  and  no  end  of  deacons  in 
black  coats,  and  faces  of  most  business-like  length  and 
importance. 

There  was  a  prayer  by  the  Rev.  Mark  Evans ;  then  a 
hymn,  then  an  address  to  the  Sabbath  School,  by  the  Rev. 
Jeremiah  Linscott.  Such  a  stirring,  bracing,  well  seasoned 
discourse  as  it  was ;  eminently  fitted  to  impress  upon  the 
minds  of  those  small  sinners  the  amount  of  evil  there  was 
in  the  world,  and  which  it  would  be  their  solemn  duty, 
when  they  should  have  grown  into  the  stature  and  places 
of  their  progenitors  and  present  guardians,  to  root  out,  to 
castigate,  to  extirpate  utterly  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 
The  responsibility  of  the  temporal  and  eternal  welfare  of 
unnumbered  thousands  of  their  fellow-men,  was  laid  upon 
their  young  shoulders ;  and  if  they  took  any  good  of  the 


274  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

strawberries  and  cream,  and  gingerbread,  and  sponge- 
cakes, which  came  after,  it  must  have  been  the  fault  of 
tough  consciences,  and  not  of  the  Rev.  Jeremiah  Linscott' s 
oratory.  The  school-master  then  read  the  Declaration  of 
Independence;  after  which  Mr.  Gladstone  represented  the 
politics  of  the  day  in  a  rather  more  hopeful  and  less  over- 
powering strain ;  and  after  him  were  to  follow  hymns,  and 
still  other  speeches  —  one,  by  a  celebrated  temperance 
lecturer,  being  a  marked  feature  of  the  day. 

But,  at  the  close  of  his  address,  Mr.  Gladstone  descended 
from  the  platform,  and  making  his  way  to  Rebecca,  who 
stood  on  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  drew  her  hand  into  his 
arm,  and  said,  gayly : 

"I'm  done  with  duty  for  to-day.  Let  us  getaway  from 
this  crowd,  and  stroll  off  into  the  woods.  I  promise  you 
a  whole  handful  of  wild  flowers,  before  we  get  back." 

Reba  hesitated  a  moment;  but  his  manner  was  earnest, 
and  the  woods  looked  very  cool  and  inviting,  and  she 
finally  yielded. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  shall  offend  you,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "by 
giving  free  ventilation  to  my  opinion  of  Mr.  Linscott  ?  " 

Reba  smiled;  and  he,  taking  that  for  his  answer,  went  on  : 

"As  a  man,  he  is  all  very  well;  a  good  citizen,  and  I'd 
vote  for  him,  for  High  Sheriff,  as  soon  as  any  man  I  know 
o£  But,  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  of  Love,  as  a  spiritual 
leader  and  guide  to  us  poor  sinners,  sunk  as  we  are  already, 
in  the  grossness  of  materialism,  that  does  seem  to  me  too 
much  of  a  joke." 

"  But  Mr.  Linscott  has  a  great  many  good  points, 
especially  when  you  consider  the  kind  of  people  he  is 
set  over ;  and  we  cannot  expect  all  the  virtues  and  graces, 
you  know,  for  six  hundred  a  year." 

"Oh,  you  may  ease  your  conscience  that  way,  if  you 
like;  but  I  prefer  to  own  to  the  gossip,  and  then  speak  the 
truth.  I  do  protest  against  any  man  who  has  not  the  glim- 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  275 

mer  of  a  spark  of  spiritual  insight  or  illumination,  but  who 
is,  if  possible,  harder  and  more  material  than  his  neighbors, 
setting  himself  up  for  a  spiritual  guide.  I  don't  believe 
God  ever  called  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Linscott  to  the  pulpit; 
a  man  so  materialistic  in  his  views,  so  full  of  old  traditions, 
so  perfectly  incapable  of  any  broad,  progressive  views  of 
truth ;  and  I  do  think  that  he  hinders  the  good  work  of 
Christiauizing  the  world  more  than  he  helps  it.  If  ever  I 
feel  like  taking  the  field  against  all  creeds  and  dogmas,  and 
restricted  forms  of  belief  whatever,  it  is  after  I  have  listened 
to  him  for  an  hour,  pelting  his  audience  with  old  dry  husks 
of  doctrine,  and  never  once  giving  them  a  grain  of  anything 
that  could,  by  any  means,  be  made  nutritious  to  the  human 
soul." 

"  When  you  feel  in  that  way,  Mr.  Gladstone,  you  should 
go  back  to  the  simple  power  and  beauty  of  Christ's  teach- 
ings: the  wheat  fields,  the  lilies,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  the 
flocks  of  the  fields,  the  expanse  of  the  sea,  the  purity  of 
the  mountains ;  these  will  soften  and  heal  your  pugilistic 
propensities,  and  lift  you  into  a  region  entirely  above,  and 
transcending  them." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,  my  friend  ;  I  know  it.  But  why  don't 
the  church  present  these  things  more ;  the  quiet,  simple 
truths,  the  beautiful  and  impressive  sacraments,  and  leave 
out  the  dogmas.  We  poor  hunted,  sin-chased  men,  would 
get  set  free  from  our  tempters  a  great  deal  quicker.  My 
friend,  do  you  know  that  I  have  leanings  toward  the  Roman 
Church,  on  that  very  account?" 

Reba  smiled.  "The  Church  of  God,"  she  said,  "mine 
eye  seeth  it  now ;  its  firm  and  huge  foundations,  laid  deep 
in  the  Judaic  heart,  among  the  iron  and  granite  of  the 
old  Roman  and  Gothic  worlds ;  its  walls  rising  broad  and 
vast  through  the  middle  age,  columned  with  the  figures  of 
saints  and  apostles,  and  cemented  with  the  blood  of 
martyrs ;  its  grand  over-arching  roof  springing  light,  but 


276  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

firm  and  sparkling,  from  the  civilization  of  to-day  ;  its 
dome,  ah,  its  dome!  no  eye  hath  seen  that  miracle  of 
glory.  It  dwelleth  yet  in  the  heavens,  in  the  vision  of  the 
Great  Architect,  who  buildeth  slowly,  through  all  time; 
but,  in  the  fullness  of  the  ages,  it  shall  descend,  glowing 
and  perfect,  to  crown  the  whole  —  a  fitting  coronal." 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  looking  into  her  face,  his  eye  kindling 
with  enthusiasm  caught  from  hers.  They  were  sitting 
upon  a  great  ledge,  which  overlooked  the  water,  green 
mosses  under  their  feet,  swaying  boughs  over  their  heads. 
A  silence  deepened  between  them,  as  eloquent  as  it  was 
dangerous. 

"Reba,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  at  length,  "I  have  been 
reading  Faust  recently,  and  really,  Mrs.  Darrell's  criticisms 
have  opened  my  eyes  to  new  meanings  in  it.  I  yield  a 
good  deal  of  my  former  prejudice;  or,  rather,  I  begin  to 
see  the  heart  and  meaning  of  the  old  woman-worship  in  a 
new  light." 

"I  think,"  said  Reba,  "I  was  never  fully  impressed 
with  the  character  of  Margaret,  until  I  saw  it  in  opera.  I 
am,  or  was,  perhaps,  peculiarly  susceptible  to  musical 
impressions;  but  the  first  time  I  saw  Faust,  I  sat  entranced 
—  not  with  the  music;  other'operas  far  surpass  it  in  vocal 
and  orchestral  effects;  but  just  with  the  character  of  that 
pure-hearted,  simple-minded  German  maiden;  its  divine 
power,  its  fatal  human  weakness ;  the  one  set  all  astray,  as 
the  power  of  woman  mostly  is,  in  this  world;  the  other  in 
the  direct  line  of  her  swift,  on-coming  fate.  There  was 
a  naturalness  and  a  terribleness  about  it,  which  utterly 
overcame  me." 

They  wandered  off,  then,  into  a  discursive  chat,  which 
grew  to  have  its  more  or  less  personal  side  ;  a  comparison 
of  tastes,  and  likings,  and  impressions,  which  deepened 
their  mutual  acquaintance,  and  disclosed  a  harmony  that 
was  in  itself  a  snare. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  277 

Coining  back  to  the  picnic  ground,  they  found  the  tables 
spread,  and  the  usual  busy,  buzzing  groups,  surrounding 
them. 

Seating  Reba  in  the  shade  of  a  great  oak,  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  tables,  Mr.  Gladstone  procur-ed  refresh- 
ments, and  the  two  were  discussing  them  with  the  usual 
chat. 

"  How  well  the  grounds  are  looking,  and  people  seem  to 
be  eujoying  themselves  hugely.  For  a  picnic  gotten  up 
on  so  short  notice,  it  is,  I  think,  a  decided  success." 

"Mrs.  Evans  gives  out,"  said  Reba,  "that  we  owe  all 
this  pleasure  to  Miss  Ridalhuber's  love  of  children  and 
interest  in  Sabbath  schools." 

The  remark  was  pointed  by  a  sly  glance  of  amusement 
across  the  tables,  where  Mr.  Linscott  was  devoting  him- 
self to  the  young  lady  in  question  with  his  usual  energy. 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  quietly  appreciative. 

"Behold  the  malice  of  women,"  said  he,  "shining  as 
steel,  fine  as  a  needle  point,  and  as  piercing.  I  wonder  if 
Mrs.  Darrell  will  put  that  quality  of  women  into  her 
book?" 

"I  disown  the  malice,"  said  Rebecca;  "simply  these 
ways  in  which  good  society  trains  up  its  virtuous  daugh- 
ters, and  the  innocent  little  transparencies  of  fiction  by 
which  they  strive  to  make  art  conceal  art,  amuse  me. 
Besides,  you  forget  that  I  have  an  interest  in  Mr.  Linscott." 

"  Ah!  yes.  Shall  I  confess  to  you  that  I  once  was  quite 
seriously  attracted  by  Miss  Ridalhuber?  She  is  a  fine  girl, 
Miss  Reba,  spite  of  that  dainty  bit  of  detraction." 

"  Mr.  Gladstone,  we  shall  quarrel  in  five  minutes,  if  you 
continue  your  accusations.  I  do  not  deny  Miss  Ridalliuber's 
virtues.  Only — " 

"  Only  you  are  a  woman.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  am  delight- 
ing myself  with  finding  that,  spite  of  the  rather  decided 
leaning  which  you  manifest  toward  what  Mr.  Linscott 


278  A  AVOMAN'S  SECRET. 

would  certainly  call  '  strong-mindedness,'  you  yet  have  not 
soared  altogether  above  the  dear,  charming,  human  foibles 
of  the  sex.  You  may  prove  the  women  all  angels  a  thou- 
sand times  over  if  you  please,  so  that  you  leave  them  at 
last  —  women." 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  in  his  best  spirits,  and  there  was 
something  in  his  tones  and  the  glance  of  his  eyes,  or  else, 
who  knows,  something  in  her  own  heart,  Avhich  made 
Reba  fix  her  eyes  upon  the  ground,  while  a  dainty  color 
crept  up  her  cheek. 

In  that  little  pause,  the  words  of  a  group  of  young 
ladies,  who  were  standing  on  the  other  side  of  the  tree, 
came  distinctly  to  their  ears. 

"  How  devoted  Mr.  Gladstone  is  to  that  Miss  March.  It 
grows  to  look  serious." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Miss  Lillie  Meredith,  with-  that  fine,  cool 
scorn  which  women  manage  so  well: 

"  Oh !  he  is  only  flirting.  I  know  Mr.  Gladstone  very 
well,  and  he  would  never  think  of  marrying  —  her." 

Mr.  Gladstone  looked  up  at  Reba  with  simply  a  smile  af- 
this  weighty  pronunciamento  concerning  his  intentions., 
and  was  shocked  to  see  her  change  color  most  painfully, 
while  her  eyes  were  filled  with  a  look  of  anguish  which  he 
could  not  at  all  comprehend.  Before  he  could  speak, 
however,  Mr.  Darrell  passed  them,  and  Reba,  with  a  bow 
to  Mr.  Gladstone,  took  his  arm  and  walked  away. 

"It  is  no  wonder,"  he  said  to  himself,  "that  she  should 
have  been  wounded  by  that  abominable  speech.  I  will  see 
her  again  by  and  by,  and  make  it  right  with  her." 

With  that,  he  joined  a  group  of  ladies  near  him,  and 
helped  them  to  keep  xip  the  light,  nonsensical  chat  of  the 
hour;  waiting  till  Mr.  Linscott  should  release  Miss  Ridal- 
huber,  so  that  he  might  have  a  moment  with  her  himself. 

But  Mr.  Linscott  was  very  much  in  earnest.  No  sooner 
had  Miss  Ridalhtiber  finished  her  dish  of  strawberries  and 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  270 

cream,  than  he  begged  her  to  walk  with  him  along  the 
beach,  with  which  request  she  very  gracefully  complied. 

"How  sweetly  this  bright  company  lights  up  these 
solemn,  old  woods,"  said  Miss  Ridalhuber.  "I  can  fancy 
how  wild  and  deserted  the  place  will  seem  to-morrow, 
when  we  are  all  gone." 

"Ah!  yes,"  said  Mr.  Linscott,  with  a  peculiarly  tender 
significance  of  tone,  which  had  an  odd  effect,  when  one 
thought  of  his  sharp,  business-like  face,  and  his  stiff,  white 
neckcloth. 

"Ah!  yes.  My  dear  Miss  Ridalhuber,  the  presence  of 
woman  refines  the  most  savage  wilderness,  in  a  way  which 
we  coarser  beings  of  the  male  sex  can  admire,  but  never 
account  for.  Imagine  for  a  moment  that  this  party  was 
composed  entirely  of  men,  and  how  instantly  the  scene 
would  lose  its  enchantment." 

Miss  Ridalhuber  looked  her  appreciation,  but  replied  in 
a  modest,  deprecatory  tone: 

"Part  of  that  effect  is,  I  think,  owing  to  the  more 
graceful  and  brightly  colored  dress  of  woman.  Gentlemen 
make  themselves — shall  I  say  it — hideous,  by  the  fashion 
of  their  garments." 

"Ah !  my  dear  young  lady,  the  garments  correspond  but 
too  well  with  the  creatures  that  wear  them.  Men  are  too 
generally  'of  the  earth,  earthy.'  Woman  was  created  to 
be  our  solace,  our  refuge,  our  guiding  star,  our  sweet 
remembrancer  of  heaven,  in  this  cold  and  selfish  world. 
It  is  well  she  wears  her  honors  meekly,  for  if  she  chose 
to  flaunt  them  in  our  faces,  we  should  be  compelled  to 
yield  her  that  supremacy  which  now  she  so  beautifully 
deprecates." 

"  Oh!  the  modesty  of  women  is  their  chief  ornament,  I 
think.  The  apostle  expresses  it  so  beautifully  in  that 
passage  concerning  '  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit.'  " 


280  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Let  us  take  notice  that  Miss  Rida^hubt r,  at  that  moment, 
was  a  marvel  of  frizzes,  and  braids,  and  danglers,  and 
"  gold  and  pearls,  and  costly  array,"  she  having  already 
caught  the  secret  of  Mr.  Linscott's  weakness  for  a  dazzling, 
effective  style  of  dress. 

"Yes,  women  owe  much  to  Christianity;  or,  perhaps  I 
ought  rather  to  say,  that  the  relation  subsisting  between 
the  two  is  a  most  tender  and  beautiful  one.  Every  minis- 
ter knows  that  his  most  appreciative  listeners  are  among 
the  women  of  his  congregation;  and  I  have  administered 
the  Lord's  Supper  more  than  once  when,  I  am  grieved  and 
pained  to  say,  the  women  were  so  much  in  the  preponder- 
ance, that  I  could  scarcely  blame  a  scoffer  who  once 
remarked  that  there  were  hardly  men  enough  present  to 
distribute  the  elements  to  the  women." 

"The  weakness  of  women  impels  them  to  cling  to  some 
strong,  religious  support,  while  men,  in  their  conscious 
strength  and  self-sufficiency,  are  less  leaning." 

"Ah,  Miss  Ridalhuber,  only  men  are  conscious  how 
deceitful  is  that  appearance  of  strength  and  self-sufficiency; 
how  the  heart  of  man  ever  longs  for  a  sure  and  safe  refuge 
in  the  love  of  gentle  woman;  how  much  of  the  strength 
that  conquers  the  world,  in  fact,  has  its  spring  in  the 
tender  and  faithful  heart  of  the  household  angel.  More 
precious,  far,  than  all  the  empty  plaudits  of  the  world,  are 
the  smiles  of  joy  and  tears  of  sympathy  of  such  an  one." 

Miss  Ridalhuber  was  walking  with  downcast  eyes.  She 
leaned  a  little  more  tremblingly  upon  Mr.  Linscott's 
arm ;  and,  thus  encouraged,  the  momentous  question  was 
speedily  murmured  in  her  ear: 

"  Azarian,  iny  heart  and  life  are  very  lonely.  Can  you 
bless  me  with  your  love?  Will  you  be  the  divinity  of  my 
home;  my  dearly  loved  and  tenderly  cherished  wife?" 

It  would  be  cruel  to  record,  verbatim,  the  reply  of  so 
modest  and  shrinking  a  creature  as  Miss  Ridalhuber.  It 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  281 

is  sufficient  to  say  that  it  was  a  very  gently  spoken,  and  a 
very  pleasing  one. 

The  reader  will  remember  another  conversation  of  Mr. 
Linscott,  with  a  woman  toward  whom  he  was  tenderly 
attracted.  The  little  queries  naturally  suggest  themselves : 
In  which  was  he  most  truthful?  In  which  most  manly? 

Alas !  alas !  for  the  aspirations  of  such  men  as  Mr. 
Linscott.  Since  the  world  began,  there  never  was  devised 
but  one  way  of  making  love. 

Love  is  blind,  you  say.  Ah !  yes ;  but  he  is  divine,  and 
the  gods  know  all  without  seeing. 


282  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET, 

XXVI. 

JOEL'S  SECRET. 

One  showery  August  evening,  just  as  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
preparing  to  leave  his  office,  the  door  was  cautiously 
opened,  and  Joel  entered,  looking  a  little  sheepish,  and 
casting  a  furtive  glance  into  every  corner  of  the  room. 

"  Good  evenin',  sir,"  said  Joel.  "Alone,  be  ye  ?  Glad 
on't.  I've  got  something  particular  to  say." 

"Ah !  indeed,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone.  "  Is  it  professional, 
Joel  ?  " 

"I  'speck  so.  Leastwise,  you  can  tell  that  better'n  I 
can.  'Tain't  no  quarrel,  Mr.  Gladstone;  'tain't  no  quarrel. 
You  know  I  never  quarrel ;  I  go  in  agin  quarrelin'." 

"Yes,  Joel;  I'm  aware  that  you  are  a  man  of  peace." 

"  Yes,  sir;  nor  I  don't  want  to  stir  up  no  quarrel.  I've 
had  it  on  my  mind  a  good  while  to  tell  you ;  but,  ye  see,  I 
didn't  want  to  make  no  fuss.  I  asked  Nancy  about  it, 
(ye  see,  Nancy  was  a  kind  o'  knowing  to  it,  as  I  may  say,) 
but  she  advised  me  to  hold  my  tongue.  '  'Tain't  likely 
there'll  any  good  come  of  it,1  says  she,  "cept  it's  a  quarrel, 
and  you  may  get  yourself  into  a  scrape.  You'd  better 
hold  your  tongue,  Joel.'  You  know  Nancy's  one  of  the 
faint-hearted  sort,  anyhow.  But  there's  my  Lucretia,  she's 
of  a  different  stripe.  When  I  told  her  about  it,  pretty 
soon  after  we  was  married,  says  she,  right  off:  'Joel,  do 
you  go  straight  to  Mr.  Gladstone,  and  tell  him  all  about  it. 
It  won't  make  no  fuss,  'thout  there's  something  wrong,  and 
then  there  ought  to  be  a  fuss  made.  Lord,  I  should  like 
to  know,'  says  she,  '  how  we  could  live  in  this  world,  if 
somebody  didn't  make  a  fuss,  and  keep  making  a  fuss,  too, 
about  all  the  time.  As  for  getting  yourself  into  trouble,' 
gays  she,  '  don't  you  be  afeard.  You  hain't  been  a-doin' 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  288 

nothin'  that  the  law  can  take  hold  of,'  says  she.  That's 
the  difference  in  women,  ye  see.  Well,  I've  been  a  meanin' 
to  get  over  here  'n  tell  ye,  for  a  good  while,  but  I've  been 
kind  o'  busy,  and  I  never  hev  till  now." 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "I'm  quite  ready  to 
hear  it.  You  hav'n't  told  me,  yet,  what  it's  about." 

"Well,  I'm  just  comin'  to  that,"  said  Joel,  luminously. 

With  that  he  drew  his  chair  a  hitch  nearer  Mr.  Gladstone, 
and  then  went  and  looked  out  of  the  window  to  see  that 
nobody  was  listening.  Being  satisfied  of  this,  he  came 
back,  leaned  over  to  Mr.  Gladstone  in  an  earnest,  confiden- 
tial way,  and  commenced  his  story. 

As  he  proceeded,  Mr.  Gladstone's  indifference  suddenly 
vanished,  and  he  listened  with  the  gravest  attention. 

"Joel,"  he  said,  when  the  latter  had  finished,  "  you  did 
very  rightly  in  coming  to  me  with  this.  Your  communica- 
tion may  lead  to  something,  and  it  may  not ;  but,  at  any 
rate,  I  think  it  is  best  to  take  it  down  in  writing.  I  would 
like  to  have  it  by  me,  to  refer  to ;  and  then,  if  you  should 
die,  or  move  away,  this  writing  might  be  used  as  evidence, 
if  it  were  necessary." 

Joel  seemed  a  little  frightened,  but  acquiesced,  and  Mr. 
Gladstone  drew  up  a  formal  affidavit,  which  Joel  duly 
affirmed,  and  signed,  in  the  proper  legal  manner. 

"Joel,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  when  they  had  finished,  "  I 
am  deeply  grateful  to  you  for  your  discretion  in  this  matter. 
It  is  late  in  the  day  to  utter  a  caution  about  it,  but  I  trust 
you  will  be  careful  not  to  mention  this  to  any  person." 

"  Oh  !  sartain,  sir ;  sartain.  I  wouldn't  tell  nobody  on't 
for  nothin'." 

"And  your  wife  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Creeshy  won't  say  nothin'.  Leastwise  she  might 
let  out  a  hint  sometime,  but  'twouldn't  be  nothiu'  that 
nobody  could  make  anything  of.  Creeshy'll  keep  dark,  if 
I  tell  her  to." 


284  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"And  Nancy?  It  seems  very  strange  that  two  or  three 
people  should  have  known  this  thing  so  long,  and  it  never 
got  out  at  all." 

"Well,  you  know  I  ain't  very  quick  at  supposing  things; 
and  it  was  a  good  while  afore  I  thought  anything  wrong  of 
it.  But,  arter  a  while,  it  kind  o'  come  to  me,  as  how  it 
was  queer,  LO  say  the  least  on't ;  and  then  I  told  Nancy, 
and  she  was  kind  o'  frightened,  and  said  maybe  'twant 
anything,  anyway.  And  I  never  should  ha'  thought  it 
really  was  worth  a-tellin'  on,  if  't'adn't  been  for  Creeshy. 
You  needn't  be  none  afraid  of  Nancy;  she  won't  never 
think  on't  again,  like  as  not,  if  nobody  don't  say  nothin'  to 
her." 

"Joel,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  a  little  doubtingly,  "  I  feel 
as  if  you  had  done  me  a  service,  for  which  I'd  like  to  pay 
you,"  and  he  took  out  his  porte-rnonnaie,  keeping  his  eye 
all  the  time  on  Joel's  face. 

"  Lord !  Mr.  Gladstone,"  said  Joel,  in  high  scorn,  "I  don't 
want  yer  money.  I  hain't  done  nothin'.  Go-'&w<7/"  and 
with  that  explosive  dismissal  of  the  subject,  he  rushed  out 
of  the  office,  and  slammed  the  door  after  him. 

Mr.  Gladstone's  smile  relapsed  into  a  deeply  thoughtful 
expression  of  countenance.  He  sat  for  five  minutes  with- 
out moving.  At  the  end  of  that  time  his  eyes  grew  tender, 
and  he  drew  a  long  and  feeling  sigh.  Then  he  rose,  and 
closed  his  office,  and  walked  thoughtfully  down  the  street. 

Joel,  meanwhile,  stopped  at  the  store,  to  do  a  little 
errand,  and  then  walked  home,  muttering  to  himself,  in 
a  tone  that  was  not  at  all  ill-natured: 

"Humph!  Offerin'  me  money.  Me!  —  that  had  the 
bringin'  up  of  him — the  little  varmint !" 

At  that  moment  Abraham  Gladstone  was,  to  Joel's  eyes, 
only  a  lad  in  his  teens,  over  whom  Joel,  a  stout  young 
farmer,  exercised  a  kind  of  friendly  oversight  and  author- 
ity. With  all  the  difference  in  circumstance,  the  old  tie 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  285 

held  good ;  and  because  love  is  never  more  nor  less  than 
love,  however  seasons  change,  Joel  still  spurned  the  idea 
of  taking  money  from  his  old  friend. 

The  next  morning  there  was  a  great  stir  in  the  doctor's 
kitchen.  Mr.  Linscott  and  his  mother  were  coming  over 
from  Jericho,  to  spend  a  day  or  two — Mr.  Linscott  was 
assiduously  cultivating  all  his  Wyndham  acquaintances 
now — and  upon  Creeshy's  shoulders  rested  the  onerous 
duty  of  making  preparations  for  them. 

"Joel,"  said  Lucretia,  sharply,  as  that  worthy  entered 
with  a  great  armful  of  oven  wood,  "  I  should  like  to  know 
the  reason  that  we  never  have. no  eggs?  It  is  full  two 
weeks  since  you've  brought  in  a  single  egg.  After  all  the 
fuss  you  made  all  winter,  about  keepin'  over  hens,  I  should 
think  we  might  have  an  egg,  now  and  then,  as  well  as  our 
neighbors.  Six  hens  about  the  place,  to  say  nothing  of 
chickens,  and  not  an  egg  to  use." 

"  One  on  'em  's  a  cockerel,"  said  Joel,  coolly,  "and — " 

"That  don't  make  no  difference,"  said  Creeshy,  spite- 
fully. "  It  ain't  nothing  at  all  to  the  purpose,  if  they  was 
all  roosters.  There  ought  to  be  some  eggs  in  the  house  — 
five  hens  around  a  place,  and  no  eggs.  A  pretty  how  d'y' 
do!" 

"  Cart  wheel  run  over  one  on  'em,  t'other  day,"  said  Joel, 
"and—" 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  none  o'  your  excuses.  A  man'll 
set  and  make  excuses  all  day  long,  if  you'll  let  him. 
It  is  your  business  to  see  that  them  hens  lay.  I  say  that, 
with  a  grist  of  hens  about  a  place,  and  no  eggs  in  the 
house,  and  you  a-eating  the  doctor's  vittles,  and  a-taking 
his  money  every  day  of  your  life,  it  ain't  no  better'n 
stealin'." 

"Two  of  'em's  a-settin',"  said  Joel,  "  and—" 

"Two  of 'em's  a-settin'!  I  should  like  to  know  what 
hens  are  a-settin'  for  in  August.  I  expect  the  doctor's 


286  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

a-countin'  on  br'iled  chicken  for  breakfast,  about  Thanks- 
giving time.  That's  all  the  sense  he's  got.  When  folks 
don't  marry,  I  do  b'lieve  they  get  to  be  fools.  What  on 
airth  are  t'other  two  hens  a-doin'  ?  " 

"  'Spect  they're  a-laying  to  'em,"  said  Joel. 

The  doctor,  who  had  passed  through  the  kitchen  at  the 
beginning  of  this  friendly  chat,  now  re-appeared  at  the 
door. 

"Joel,"  said  he,  "  how  many  chickens  do  you  expect  old 
Blue-top  to  hatch  ?  " 

"Not  any,"  said  Joel. 

"  She's  sitting  on  the  barn  floor  with  twenty-seven  eggs 
under  her,  and  not  so  much  as  a  wisp  of  straw  for  a  nest. 
She's  a — little — too — ambitious,  I'm  afraid,  and  needs 
regulating." 

"More  fool  she,"  said  Joel.  "Ye  see,  doctor,  what, 
with  all  these  showers,  the  hay  has  bothered  me  so,  that 
I  hain't  thought  a  word  about  the  hens  for  a  fortnight. 
Creeshy,  if  you'll  just  lift  up  that  pan,  right  by  your  hand, 
you'll  find  a  couple  o'  dozen  of  eggs,  that  I  fetched  home 
from  the  store,  last  night.  I  'spected  ye'd  be  a- wanting 
eggs  to-day,  but  I  reckoned  'twould  do  ye  good  to  hev  yer 
blow  out." 

Joel  saw  a  vision  of  a  rolling-pin  in  mid-air,  and  dodged 
out  of  the  door  with  an  explosive  laugh  and  cackle. 

"  Guess  I  got  the  better  on  her  that  time,"  said  he  to 
the  doctor. 

"  Ye  see,"  said  Lucretia,  apologetically,  to  Miss  Joanna, 
who  came  into  the  kitchen  just  in  time  to  witness  the 
conclusion  of  hostilities,  "  I  shouldn't  care  nothin'  about 
old  Mrs.  Linscott.  She's  particular,  to  be  sure,  but  then 
I  ain't  afraid  to  compare  cookin'  with  her,  any  time.  I 
know  all  about  her.  But  that  Miss  Ridalhuber'll  be  here 
to  tea,  and  these  city  folks  do  put  me  out  so." 

"I  do  not  think  it  is  worth  while  to  be  troubled  much 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  287 

about  Miss  Ridalhuber,"  said  Miss  Joanna.  "Her  lover 
will  be  here,  you  know,  and  people  in  love  are  not  sup- 
posed to  care  much  for  good  eating." 

"Oh,  that  ain't  neither  here  nor  there,  with  Miss  Ridal- 
huber," said  Lucretia.  "I  watched 'em  at  the  picnic,  and 
I  tell  you  she  ain't  none  too  much  took  up  with  Mr. 
Linscott.  If  she  could  have  got  the  lawyer,  she'd  have 
given  the  minister  the  go-by  quick  enough." 

"  Oh,  Lucretia,  you  should  not  judge  people  so  harshly. 
I  am  sure  Mr.  Gladstone  has  been  very  attentive  to  Miss 
Ridalhuber,  and  if  she  had  fancied  him,  she  had  no 
reason,  that  I  know  of,  for  thinking  that  she  couldn't  win 
him." 

"Humph,"  said  Lucretia,  "you  ain't  one  of  Miss  Ridal- 
huber's  kind,  and  never  was.  She  knows  what  she  is 
about.  Not  but  what  she's  good  enough  for  Mr.  Linscott. 
He  needs  somebody  that  is  sly  and  catty,  and  can  pull  the 
wool  over  his  eyes,  and  he  will  get  it  in  her." 

There  was  some  farther  chat  about  kitchen  mysteries, 
and  then  Miss  Joanna  went  out  into  the  garden  to  gather 
berries  for  tea. 

In  her  deep  mourning  robes,  Joanna  looked  taller,  and 
thinner,  and  sweeter  than  ever.  There  was  no  longer  the 
freshness  of  youth  in  her  face ;  but  a  beauty  that  youth 
cannot  boast,  the  beauty  which  only  long  years  of  spiritual 
experience  can  ripen,  shone  all  over  her  pale,  delicate 
countenance.  Leaning  over  the  raspberry  vines,  and 
staining  her  finger-tips  with  their  crimson  lusciousness, 
her  mind  was  busy  with  graver  things.  She  was  thinking 
of  Miss  Ridalhuber,  and  of  the  youthfulness  and  vivacity 
which,  on  that  picnic  day,  she  had  witnessed  among  the 
young  people  of  the  town. 

"My  life,"  she  said,  to  herself,  "has  missed  all  that.  I 
can  never  remember  one  such  day  of  buoyant  happines*  ag 
those  girls  will  carry  in  their  memories  for  many  a  y>ar. 


288  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Not  that  my  girlhood  was  altogether  wanting  in  joys; 
oh,  no,"  and  tfie  raspberries  swam  in  a  mist  before  her 
eyes.  "But  that  was  all  so  still,  so  deep,  and  in  the  end 
so  sad.  And  now  my  youth  is  gone,  and  I  shall  never — 
never  —  laugh  that  shrill,  happy  laugh  of  girlhood;  never 
trifle  and  coquette  and  make  merry,  in  that  innocent  way 
that  so  becomes  girls,  and  makes  their  very  lives  a  beauty. 
And  yet,  I  am  not  old;  I  cannot  subside  at  once  into  the 
narrow,  monotonous  habits  of  age." 

She  paused,  and  a  drop  that  was  not  dew  glistened  on 
the  raspberry  leaves. 

"I  must — somehow — win  something  to  love;  not  to 
love  me.  That  was  all  over  when  my  little  Kitty  died. 
She  can  never  come  back  to  me,  but  I  shall  go  to  her. 
Meantime,  I  must  find  something  to  love." 

A  project  existed  in  a  nebulous  state  in  Miss  Joanna's 
mind.  She  would  need  somebody  more  practical  than 
herself  to  bring  about  its  execution,  but,  nevertheless,  she 
was  quite  determimed  upon  that  thing.  She  would  have 
something  to  love. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  289 


XXVII. 

HOW    MBS.    MOSS   PAID    THE    DOCTOR. 

One  soft  midsummer  evening,  Rebecca  had  retired  to 
her  own  room,  after  tea,  to  finish  copying  a  manuscript, 
when  she  was  interrupted  by  a  very  gentle  knock  at  the 
door. 

It  was  Miss  Joanna. 

"  May  I  come  in  ?  "  she  said. 

Rebecca  hastened  to  give  her  welcome,  and  to  put  away 
her  papers,  for  she  saw  by  Miss  Joanna's  face  that  she  had 
something  of  special  import  upon  her  mind. 

"Don't  your  light  draw  insects?"  said  Joanna,  after  a 
few  moments'  chat,  with  an  innocent  attempt  at  artifice. 

"I  think  it  does,"  said  Rebecca.  "Suppose  we  put  it 
out  and  sit  in  the  moonlight." 

"That  will  please  me  a  great  deal  better,"  said  Joanna. 

The  light  was  therefore  extinguished.  The  moon 
streamed  in  through  the  open  window,  and  the  night 
breeze  swayed  the  climbing  vines  around  it,  through  which 
a  bat  was  flitting  to  and  fro. 

"I  came  over,"  said  Joanna,  "just  because  I  felt  lonely, 
and  wanted  to  talk  with  somebody  that  would  understand 
me.  I  get  so  miserable,  at  times,  since  dear  little  Kitty 
died,  that  it  seems  to  me  if  I  don't  have  some  change,  I 
shall  get  back  into  those  old  unhappy  ways  of  which  she 
cured  me." 

"  I  am  glad  you  came,"  said  Rebecca,  "for  I  was  feeling 
much  in  the  same  mood  myself." 

"Oh,  you  should  never  get  lonely,  you  who  have  so 
much  to  do.  Milton  says,  and  I  am  sure  it  is  true,  that  it 
is  occupation  that  I  need,  and  possibly —  something  else." 

"Yes,  Miss  Joanna,  something  else." 
H 


290  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Yes,  but  occupation;  not  only  work  for  the  hands,  but 
work  for  the  head  and  the  heart  is  necessary  to  women. 
We  are  naturally  generators,  you  know;  we  have  the 
nervous  or  creative  power  in  far  greater  plenitude  than 
men;  we  suffer  from  ennui  when  they  loll  in  perfect 
comfort,  and  when  the  stream  of  constant  doing  and 
giving  gets  choked,  the  whole  life  is  overflowed  with 
the  restrained  force,  and  we  get — dreadful  thing  that  it  is 
— nervous. 

"And  the  upshot  of  it  is,  that  you  want  something  to 
do?" 

"Yes,  and  lam  not  like  Laura;  who,  if  she  were  left 
destitute  to-day,  could  go  out  into  the  world,  and  provide 
for  herself,  and  at  the  same  time  do  yeoman's  service  in 
reformatory  work.  I  think  Laura  has  a  duty  in  that  direc- 
tion which  she  will  commit  sin  if  she  much  longer  neglects. 
But  that  is  not  my  case.  I  must  have  work  in  which  my 
heart  is  engaged.  I  must  get  all  my  forces  into  the  field, 
or  I  shall  perish." 

"That  suggests  to  me  a  new  idea,"  said  Rebecca,  "con- 
cerning the  difference  between  what  is  properly  man's  and 
woman's  work.  A  man's  work  engages  his  hands,  or  his 
head,  perhaps  both,  but  seldom,  except  in  a  cold  or 
indirect  way,  his  heart.  But  a  woman's  work  properly 
strikes  the  full  chord  of  her  being.  Head,  hands  and  heart 
must  all  work  together  to  make  and  keep  the  house,  and 
people  it  with  new  life." 

"You  women  with  brains  philosophize  as  you  breathe," 
said  Joanna,  with  a  quaint  little  smirk.  "Now,  I  should 
never  have  thought  of  that.  But  it  is  so.  But  to  get  back 
to  my  work.  When  Kitty  died,  I  thought  I  could  never 
take  another  child  into  her  place,  and  I  never  can.  I 
loved  her,  and  she  loved  me,  little  darling.  No  one  else 
will  ever  love  me  as  she  did.  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I 
would  have  one;  but,  Rebecca,  I  might  have  a  child, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  291 

whom  I  could  love  and  care  for,  and  feel  an  interest  in ; 
don't  you  think  so?" 

The  shadows  in  the  room  hid  Miss  Joanna's  face,  but 
the  softness  of  her  tones  diffused  a  sense  of  tender, 
delicate  feeling  all  about  her. 

"Certainly,"  said  Rebecca.  "I  see  nothing  but  good 
in  such  a  purpose." 

"I  have  an  idea  in  my  head,"  said  Joanna,  "but  I  am 
such  an  unpractical  body,  I  shall  never  get  about  it  rightly 
without  a  little  help." 

"Is  it  anything  that  I  can  do?"  asked  Rebecca,  cheer- 
fully. 

"  I  think,  perhaps,  you  might,  at  least,  suggest  some- 
thing. You  know  Mrs.  Moss  named  her  youngest  boy 
after  Milton." 

"Oh!  yes,"  said  Rebecca,  in  deliberate  surprise. 

"Do  you  suppose — she  has  so  many— she  would  part 
with  that  one  ?  It  would  not  be  like  giving  it  up  altogether, 
you  know,  for  she  would  see  him  often,  and  we  would  do 
well  by  him.  What  little  money  I  have,  he  would  have, 
if  he  outlived  me,  and  Milton  would  be  a  good  friend  to 
him." 

"Have  you  said  anything  to  the  doctor?" 

"Not  yet.  I  felt  a  little — you  know — I  thought  I'd 
tell  you  first." 

"And  shall  I  be  your  minister  plenipotentiary?"  asked 
Rebecca,  laughing. 

"If  you  will." 

"  Oh,  with  pleasure,"  said  Rebecca.  "  I  like  the  scheme, 
and  though  Mrs.  Moss  is  a  good  mother,  she  is  also  a 
sensible  woman,  and  may,  perhaps,  be  brought  to  see  the 
matter  in  that  light.  You  are  sure  you  will  be  satisfied  to 
take  a  boy?" 

"Yes,  I  have  thought  of  that.  If  he  grows  up,  and  is  a 
good  boy,  as,  of  course,  I  hope  he  will  be,  he  will  be  more 


292  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

dependence  to  me  by  and  by.  I  think  I  should  be  very 
proud  of  having  brought  up  a  boy  to  a  fine,  noble  man- 
hood." 

"He'd  upset  some  of  your  precise  notions  wonderfully." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  have  looked  that  vision  of  muddy  boots  and 
torn  trowsers,  and  disordered  rooms,  quite  valiantly  in  the 
face.  I  rather  think  it  is  just  what  I  need." 

"Well,  then,  I  can  recommend  the  child.  He  is  a 
bright  little  fellow,  and  of  a  finer  fiber  than  the  elder 
children.  But,  really,  I  think  you  might  better  speak  to 
the  doctor  yourself.  You  know  the  doctor  is  jealous 
concerning  his  own  kin." 

"  So  he  is,  and  he's  a  good  brother,  such  a  good  brother. 
I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done  all  these  years 
without  Milton.  I  will  speak  to  him  this  very  night  if  I 
can  see  him  alone.  Talking  with  you  has  made  the  thing 
seem  so  much  more  real  and  -  feasible  than  it  did  before. 
I  knew  you  would  understand  my  feelings,  as  hardly 
anybody  else  could." 

Two  or  three  days  later,  Rebecca  and  Joanna  set  out 
for  a  walk  across  the  fields  to  Mrs.  Moss'  cottage.  Miss 
Joanna  was  a  little  nervous,  but  Rebecca's  cheei-ful  chat 
put  some  heart  into  her,  and  by  the  time  they  reached  the 
cottage  gate,  she  was  in  quite  good  spirits.  The  doctor 
had  been  consulted,  and  had  given  a  quiet  approval.  He 
had  even  talked  the  matter  over  with  Mrs.  Moss,  quite 
unbeknown  to  Miss  Joanna,  wisely  judging  that  if  the 
plan  were  to  'succeed,  it  must  be  managed  with  some  skill 
and  force. 

"If  Joanna  takes  him,"  the  doctor  had  said  to  Mrs. 
Moss,  "he  wih1  have  what  little  money  she  has  got,  if  he 
does  well.  I  shall  see  that  he  has  a  good  education  and 
a  fair  start  in  life.  I  sha'n't  make  an  heir  of  Milton.  The 
bulk  of  my  money  —  what  there  is  of  it — will  go  to 
Laura's  children.  But  I  shall  see  that  Milton  has  a  <?ood 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  293 

start  in  the  world;  and,  on  the  whole,  if  you  can  make  up 
your  mind  to  give  him  up,  I  don't  know  but  the  boy  will 
be  well  enough  off." 

Mrs.  Moss  had  slept  little  that  night.  Moses  had  hailed 
the  project  as  a  "good  thing  for  the  boy;"  but  Mrs. 
Moss'  heart  misgave  her.  Many  tears  and  many  prayers, 
and  much  setting  of  the  matter  in  all  possible  lights,  had 
gone  to  her  decision.  But  she  had,  at  last,  quietly  made 
up  her  mind,  and  when  she  saw  the  two  ladies  approaching 
across  the  fields,  her  face  wore  a  very  solemn  look. 

The  children  were  all  outside  in  the  yard,  just  organizing 
for  a  game  of  tag ;  little  Milton,  a  five  year  old,  being 
perched  upon  the  top  rail  of  the  fence,  watching  the 
process.  Joanna  stopped  and  spoke  to  him. 

"  Good  evening,  ma'am,"  he  said,  rather  shyly,  for  Miss 
Joanna  was  held  in  great  reverence  by  the  children  of  the 
village." 

"You  are  a  nice  little  boy,"  said  Joanna;  "would  you 
like  some  candy?" 

His  eyes  grew  very  bright  and  expectant,  as  she  put  her 
hand  in  her  pocket  and  drew  forth  a  long  twisted  stick  of 
red  and  white  candy. 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am,"  he  exclaimed,  and  was  down  off 
the  fence  in  a  jiffy  to  display  his  prize. 

The  ladies  then  passed  into  the  cottage.  Mrs.  Moss 
received  them  with  a  grave  but  kindly  welcome. 

"I  suppose  I  know  your  errand,"  she  said,  after  a  few 
minutes'  cha-t.  "The  doctor  was  here  yesterday  and  told 
me  all  about  it.  He  says  you  want  to  take  my  Milton 
home  with  you." 

The  poor  woman  made  such  a  visible  effort  against 
breaking  down,  and  sustained  herself  so  heroically,  that 
Joanna  choked  up,  and  couldn't  possibly  reply,  but 
Rebecca  said: 

"I  am  glad  the  doctor  has  been  here,  for  he  could  put 


294  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

the  matter  so  much  more  practically  and  sensibly  than  we 
could.  Miss  Joanna  means  nothing  but  kindness  toward 
you  and  yours,  and  we  hope  you  will  be  able  to  see  it  in 
that  way." 

"Oh!  I  do,  I  do.  I  know  that  mothers  can't  keep  their 
children  always  with  them.  There's  Theodore,  he  ain't 
satisfied  here.  He's  a-going  down  to  New  York  next 
month;  he's  got  a  good  place  engaged  there,  where  he  can 
do  better,  he  thinks,  than  he  can  here.  At  first,  I  thought 
I  couldn't  give  my  consent,  but  I  finally  see  that  it  ain't 
for  a  mother  that's  gi'n  jip  and  gi'n  up  all  her  life,  to  get 
selfish  in  her  old  age.  If  he  can  do  better  there,  he  must 
go." 

Her  voice  would  tremble  a  little,  and  she  stopped  and 
looked  down  and  creased  the  hem  of  her  apron  in  silence. 

"Yes,"  said  Rebecca,  "that  is  the  duty  of  a  mother,  to 
sacrifice  her  own  to  her  children's  good.  We  hoped  you 
would  see  this  matter  of  Milton  in  that  light." 

"  Miss  Rebecca,"  said  the  mother,  looking  up  suddenly, 
"this  ain't  no  such  matter  as  that.  Theodore's  brought 
up ;  I've  done  all  for  him  that  I  can  do ;  the  natural  time 
has  come  for  him  to  leave  home,  and  God  seems  to  have 
ordered  that  he  shall  go.  But  Milton's  a  baby  yet,  so  to 
speak.  I  hain't  done  my  duty  by  him  yet.  To  be  sure,  if 
Moses  was  to  die,  I  might  have  to  put  more  or  less  of  'em 
out  to  be  brought  up,  and  shouldn't  be  likely  to  get  such 
chances  as  this  for  'em,  neither;  but,  then,  God  hain't 
called  me  to  that  trouble  yet,  nor  I  hope  he  won't  right 
away.  If  I  give  Milton  up,  it  ain't  altogether  because  I 
think  he's  a-goin'  to  do  better;  because  it  ain't  clear  to  my 
mind,  that  money  nor  advantages  can  ever  make  up  for 
the  loss  of  an  own  mother.  You'll  be  good  to  him,  Miss 
Joanna,  I  know  that.  It  ain't  in  your  nature  to  be  other- 
wise; but,  then,  he  ain't  your  flesh  and  blood,  as  he  is 
mine;  you  hain't  known  his  father  and  had  patience  with 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  29o 

him  twenty  years,  as  I  have,  and  you  can't  know  and 
have  patience  with  his  child.  Still,  I  know  you'll  be  good 
to  him." 

"And  you  will  be  his  mother  still,"  said  Miss  Joanna, 
"and  shall  see  him  whenever  you  choose.  Oh,  I  could  not 
be  so  selfish  as  that;  to  try  and  put  any  barrier  between  a 
child  and  his  own  mother." 

"Yes,  but  there'll  be  a  barrier  all  the  same.  His  life 
will  be  different  from  my  life;  he  won't  set  by  the  same 
things  any  more,  that  his  brothers  and  sisters  do ;  and  he 
may — God  knows — get  proud  and  feel  above  'em." 

Miss  Joanna  was  silent.  There  was  more  in  the  depths 
of  this  woman's  soul  than  she  could  at  once  comprehend. 

"Money  ain't  always  a  blessing,"  continued  Mrs.  Moss, 
especially  to  children;  nor  advantages  ain't  any  more, 
unless  they  make  good  use  of  'em.  I've  thought  about  it 
a  good  deal,  and  if  it  wa'n't  for  nothing  but  the  advant- 
ages, I  shouldn't  let  Milton  go.  If  he  stays  where  God 
put  him,  God  will  be  responsible  for  him.  If  I  go  and 
put  him  out  of  the  way  of  the  blessings  God  gave  him,  for 
others  that  I  think  more  of,  then  I  take  the  responsibility, 
which  I'm  loath  to  do.  I'd  got  just  so  far  a-thinking  about 
it,  when  I  seemed  to  see  another  thing,  and  that  was  this. 
Now,  Miss  Joanna,  I  ain't  a-trying  to  set  myself  up,  nor 
give  myself  airs.  I'm  just  a-telling  you  the  solemn  truth, 
and  I  want  you  to  know  it,  because  I  don't  want  you  to 
feel  as  if  I  sold  my  child  for  money. 

"  There  ain't  nobody  in  the  world,  out  of  my  own  family, 
that's  done  more  for  me  than  Doctor  Gaines  has.  He's 
been  a  good  friend  to  me,  wheu  I  hadn't  many  other 
friends  to  stand  by  me;  and  I  know  he  sets  more  by  you 
than  by  anything  else  living.  Now,  you  two  have  got 
money  and  a  good  name,  and  good  advantages  every  way. 
You've  got  everything  but  one,  and  that's  children  to  love 
you  and  be  good  to  you  in  your  old  age,  and  to  keep  up 


296  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

your  name  and  memory  when  you  are  dead  and  gone. 
For,  what  good  is  a  man's  life  to  him,  if  it  is  all  to  go 
down  into  the  grave  with  him,  and  nothing  but  a  tombstone 
to  keep  his  memory  from  rotting.  So,  if  I  give  you  my 
boy — my  baby,"  the  tears  and  the  sobs  would  come  then 
in  spite  of  her,  "  I  don't  do  it  from  any  proud  or  selfish 
gladness  that  he's  to  be  a  bigger  man  and  have  more 
money  than  his  brothers;  but  because  the  doctor  has  given 
his  best  to  me,  which  was  care  and  kindness  and  sympathy 
when  I  needed  'em,  and  now  I'm  willing  to  give  my  best 
to  him  when  he  needs  it;  and  to  you,  too,  Miss  Joanna, 
for  I  know  how  lonely  you  be,  and  I  pity  ye." 

The  tears  were  raining  down  Joanna's  pale  cheeks,  and 
Mrs.  Moss  was  sobbing. 

"It  is  all  true  that  you  have  said,"  said  Joanna,  "and 
if  I  can  help  it,  Mrs.  Moss,  you  shall  never  have  cause  to 
regret  your  generosity." 

There  was  some  farther  talk,  and  then  it  was  settled 
that  Milton  should  make  the  change  the  next  day.  He 
sobbed  some  when  he  understood  the  matter,  and  clung 
to  his  mother's  bosom,  with  childish  passion ;  and  the 
mother,  how  her  heart  yearned  over  him  in  that  last 
embrace,  the  last  when  he  should  be  hers,  no  pen  can  tell; 
and  as  she  gave  him  up  to  go,  she  said: 

"Don't  ever  think,  Miss  Joanna,  that  I  cared  for  the 
money;  but  I  hope  he  will  be  a  good  boy,  and  a  comfort 
to  you  and  yours,  as  you  grow  old  and  need  him." 

And  Joanna,  seeing  the  strength  and  truthfulness  of  this 
mother's  heart,  felt  more  humble  in  h^r  presence  than  if 
she  had  been  a  queen. 

Rebecca  had  staid  behind  on  that  first  evening,  to  ask 
a  few  questions  about  Theodore. 

"He's  bent  upon  going,"  said  his  mother.  "Seems 
like  the  boy's  possessed  with  the  idea  of  being  a  rich 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  297 

"Yes,  but  does  he  realize  what  it  is  to  leave  home  and 
friends,  and  go  into  such  scenes  of  temptation  as  he  must 
encounter  in  that  great,  wicked  town?" 

"Ah  !  that  is  it,  Miss  Rebecca,  that  is  what  troubles  me 
most.  I've  tried  to  do  my  duty  by  Theodore,  but  when  I 
think  of  it,  I  ain't  clear  that  I've  done  all  I  ought  to  by 
him.  I've  tried  to  have  his  father  talk  to  him,  but  he 
won't  take  nothing  from  his  father  as  he  would  from  me, 
and  there's  some  things  I  can't  talk  to  him  about.  But 
I've  tried  to  do  my  duty  by  him,  and  must  trust  God  for 
the  rest.  He's  been  a  good  boy  so  far,  ever  since  he 
got  into  business,  and  I  do  hope  he'll  be  good  to  the 
end." 

Then  she  went  on,  with  motherly  care  and  pride,  and 
told  how  many  shirts  she  had  made  for  him,  and  how  many 
stockings,  and  how  she  had  worked  hard  to  buy  him  a 
handsome  Bible  to  put  in  his  trunk ;  and  when  at  last  it 
was  all  told,  she  could  only  say: 

"  And,  Miss  Rebecca,  won't  you  pray  for  him,  that  he 
may  be  kept  from  all  evil.  He  is  my  best  hope  and  stay  in 
this  world,  and  I  can't — I  can't — lose  him  by  reason  of 
bad  conduct." 

"Indeed  I  will;  and,  Mrs.  Moss,  you  must  remember 
that  his  very  pride  and  ambition  will  be  a  shield  to 
him." 

"Oh!  I  know  that.  Theodore  won't  lie  nor  he  won't 
steal;  and  with  all  he's  seen  of  liquor  at  home,  I  ain't 
much  afraid  he'll  drink;  but  there's  other  ways  of  badness ; 
and  my  boy,  brought  up  in  this  quiet  town,  what  does  he 
know  about  'em,  and  what  can  I  tell  him;  and  yet,  if  I 
could  tell  him,  he'd  take  it  better  from  me  than  from  any- 
body else.  Miss  Rebecca,  I  can't  see  clearly  what  my 
duty  is." 

Just  then  Theodore  came  in.  He  caught  right  quickly 
the  tone  of  the  two  women's  talk.  He  said  little  while 


298  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Rebecca  staid,  but  when  she  had  gone  he  p'ut  his  two 
hands  on  his  mother's  shoulders,  and  looking  straight  into 
her  eyes,  he  said: 

*'  Don't  you  worry  about  me,  mother.  I've  got  that  in 
me  that  won't  give  way  to  anything  mean  or  disgraceful. 
When  I  come  back  to  Wyndham,  I  shall  never  be  ashamed 
to  look  you  in  the  face,  just  as  I  am  doing  now.  Mother, 
will  you  trust  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Theodore,  I  will,"  and,  from  that  moment,  the 
mother's  heart  was  easy  about  her  boy. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  299 

XXVIII. 

A  MAN'S  LOVE. 

When,  on  the  morning  afterward,  Mr.  Gladstone 
reviewed  the  picnic,  the  only  incidents  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  day's  occurrences  which 
remained  impressed  upon  his  mind,  were  his  pleasant 
chat  with  Rebecca  under  the  whispering  forest  trees,  and 
the  look  of  pain  in  her  face  as  she  left  him. 

All  these  years  of  steady,  hard  work  at  his  profession, 
with  always  a  deep  and  solemn  purpose  in  view,  had  not 
left  Mr.  Gladstone  a  trifler.  He  had  flirted  a  little  with 
women  lately,  because  such  women  as  fell  in  his  way  had 
seemed  to  be  good  for  little  else  than  flirting.  But  since 
his  acquaintance  with  Rebecca  had  deepened  into  a  friend- 
ship, he  had  not  been  in  a  humor  for  trifling.  Something 
more  than  the  mere  passion  of  his  soul  was  touched.  A 
new  nature,  a  spiritual  being,  which  he  had  before  been 
scarcely  conscious  of  possessing,  seemed  thrilling  into 
subjective  life.  His  vision  was  clearer ;  his  senses  more 
acute ;  there  was  an  uplifting  of  his  soul  into  a  purer 
atmosphere,  a  grander  horizon  than  he  had  ever  known 
before.  Life  in  this  new  air  took  a  joyous  brightness, 
which  was  not  altogether  due  to  the  rose-tint  which,  he 
was  growing  quite  sensible,  suffused  it.  Apart  from  this 
woman,  who  seemed  born  to  set  his  soul  free  from  all  thrall- 
dom,  and  uplift  him  as  on  cherubic  wings,  was  the  cheering 
consciousness  of  this  new  fact,  which  he  had  never  more 
than  suspected  before,  that  the  outlook  of  his  life  could  be 
so  enlarged  and  glorified.  His  eyes  were  turned  upward,  to 
look  at  this  woman,  and  the  wealth  of  Ophir  would  not  have 
bought  'her  from  his  gaze,  if  she  must  be  replaced  by  a 
woman  who  should  draw  him  back  again  to  hi*  old  level. 


300  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

The  tender,  lingering  memory  of  those  moments  of 
refreshing,  which  he  had  passed  at  Rebecca's  side,  deep- 
ened the  remembrance  of  that  look  of  pain  which  she 
wore  at  parting. 

"  The  speech  would  have  been  contemptible,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "if  it  had  not  had  power  to  wound  that  gentle 
heart.  It  shall  be  my  task  to  extract  the  thorn;"  and  he 
hugged  to  himself  a  most  delicious  sense  of  coming  joy, 
as  he  thought  how  he  should  win  back  the  light  into  that 
face,  which  was  growing  so  dear  to  him. 

But  an  obstacle  lay  in  his  way  which  he  could  not 
foresee. 

All  through  the  gay  scenes  of  that  day,  the  words  of 
Miss  Lillian  had  rung  incessant  changes  through  Rebecca's 
brain. 

"  I  know  Mr.  Gladstone  very  well,  and  he  will  never 
marry — her." 

Indignant  tears  pressed  up  to  her  eyes,  and  were  choked 
hotly  back.  Old  unforgotten  agonies  wrenched  her  heart 
anew.  There  was  a  time  when  no  one  living  would  have 
spoken  of  her  with  that  accent;  least  of  all,  Miss  Lillian 
Meredith.  Was  her  life  to  be  forever  blighted  by  that 
ancient  wrong?  More  poignant,  if  less  deep,  was  the 
feeling  of  that  new  tenderness,  which,  now  as  never  before, 
she  saw  must  be  uprooted. 

"Because  he  is  noble,"  she  said,  "I  will  not  abuse  him. 
I  never  yet  intentionally  brought  dishonor  on  any  human 
being.  I  will  not  commence  with  the  man  whom  I — might 
love." 

Therefore,  when  these  two  met  again,  they  were  very 
much  at  cross  purposes.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  gentle,  cour- 
teous, winning  in  his  manners,  as  he  had  never  been  before. 
Rebecca  steeled  herself  to  be  impassive,  unresponding. 
It  was  a  hard  thing  for  her  to  do,  for  in  this  direction  she 
was  not  strong,  but  very  weak  and  yielding.  Her  heart 


V"1^ 

sour, 

JKfo 

^^  enouj 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  301 

ached  so  for  tenderness  and  rest,  that  when  she  saw  them 
offered  to  her  with  an  intent  which  she  was  sure  was  honest, 
and  in  a  measure  which  she  knew  would  be  full  and  satis- 
fying, it  was  very  hard  to  turn  her  eyes  coldly  away,  and 
neglectful.  And  Mr.  Gladstone,  driven  sometimes 

the  point  of  despair,  by  her  persistency,  still  gathered 
enough  of  this  reluctance  from  her  manner,  to  feed  his 
hope,  and  grew  more  and  more  determined,  day  by  day. 

She  avoided  him  everywhere.  Since  the  day  of  the 
picnic,  he  had  never,  for  a  moment,  seen  her  alone.  "If 
I  could  get  five  words  with  her  privately,"  he  said,  "I 
believe  I  could  melt  this  barrier  between  us;  could  con- 
vince her  that  I  am  but  too  much  in  earnest ;  could  win 
her  to  give  up  this  strange,  unnatural  opposition.  For, 
let  her  seem  as  cold  as  she  may,  I  do  believe  she  is  not 
insensible." 

He  might  have  written.  He  had  thought  often  of  that, 
but  there  was  such  an  intense  longing  in  his  heart  to  look 
into  her  eyes,  when  the  love-light  should  be  welling  up 
into  them ;  to  watch,  moment  by  moment,  the  swift,  tender 
changes  of  her  face  ;  the  flushing  and  retreating  color,  the 
raising  and  drooping  eyelids,  the  passionate  yielding,  the 
coy  reticence  of  her  manner,  that  he  felt  he  could  wait, 
almost  indefinitely,  for  the  sake  of  making  that  delicious 
goal  at  last. 

One  August  evening,  entering  Miss  Joanna's  parlor, 
where  he  was  a  privileged  guest,  he  found  a  group  of 
ladies,  representatives  of  some  notable  charity,  monopo- 
lizing Miss  Joanna;  and  standing  at  a  window,  looking 
out  quite  absently  upon  the  sunset — Rebecca.  He  sent  a 
little  cry  of  thanksgiving  upward,  and  having  made  his 
compliments  to  Miss  Joanna,  and  excused  himself  till  she 
should  be  at  liberty,  approached  Rebecca.  As  she  turned 
to  receive  his  greeting,  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  her 
look  more  lovely.  She  wore  a  dress  of  white  muslin, 


302  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

relieved  only  by  a  knot  of  black  lace  at  the  throat.  A  faint 
color  enhanced  the  beauty  of  her  clear,  transparent  skin. 
Her  soft,  luxuriant  hair,  its  florid  tint  well  kindled  by  a 
late  sunbeam,  was  drawn  back  from  the  face,  and  coiled 
in  heavy  masses  at  her  neck,  while  her  eyes,  half  sad,  half 
luminous  with  a  tender  light,  shone  on  him  like  stars  out 
of  dusky  evening  skies. 

He  took  her  hand  without  a  word  of  reply  to  her  quiet 
"good  evening." 

"  My  dear  friend,"  he  said,  "  I  love  you.  Is  there  any 
need  that  you  should  shun  me  thus  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  eyes  of  such  mute,  pitiful 
dismay,  that  he  could  but  apologize  for  his  abruptness. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said;  "I  know  you  cannot  answer  me 
here;  but  won't  you  give  me  five  minutes  alone  with  you? 
My  buggy  is  at  the  door;  when  your  call  is  ended,  let  me 
drive  you  home.  "Will  you  go  now?" 

"  Oh !  "  she  said,  "  my  friend,  I  would  have  spared  you 
this,  if  you  would  have  let  me." 

Her  words  and  tears  were  both  ominous,  and  he  felt  his 
heart  sinking ;  but  he  had  gone  too  far  now  to  retract. 
With  one  long,  steady  look  at  her  face,  which,  half  averted, 
was  still  plainly  suffused  with  pain,  he  turned  to  Miss 
Joanna,  and  gravely  excusing  himself  in  a  way  which  long 
acquaintance  made  permissible,  came  back  and  offered  his 
hand  to  Rebecca.  Her  shawl  and  dainty  evening  head- 
dress were  in  the  hall,  and  she  was  quickly  wrapped. 
The  tenderness  of  his  manner,  as  he  placed  her  in  the 
buggy,  and  adjusted  her  robes,  was  touched  with  the 
sadness  her  words  had  caused  him ;  and  he  was  seated 
by  her  side,  and  had  headed  the  horse  for  a  dim,  secluded 
road,  which  led  quite  out  of  the  town,  before  a  word  was 
spoken  by  either. 

"Now,  Rebecca,"  he  said,  at  length,  with  a  gracious 
endeavor  to  be  gay,  "  I  want  to  know  my  doom." 


A  WOMAN  8   SECRET.  d03 

She  put  back  the  weakness  which  had  fringed  her  eyes 
•with  tears,  and  made  one  grand  effort  for  composure. 

"  Mr.  Gladstone,"  she  said, "  I  feel  too  deeply  the  honor, 
the  joy,  the  bounty  of  your  love,  not  to  regret  to  see  it 
wasted.  If  I  could  ever  marry,  you,  of  all  men,  need  not 
despair ;  but  I  am  doomed  to  loneliness." 

He  was  very  grave ;  the  pain,  and  the  suddenness  of  it, 
blanching  his  cheek,  and  quenching  the  light  from  his  eye. 

"Rebecca,"  he  said,  "I  knew,  of  course,  that  there 
was  something  in  your  life  which  you  did  not  choose  to 
speak  about,  but  I  never  thought  of  this." 

He  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes,  thinking  over,  with 
that  lightning-like  celerity  and  skill  which  the  mind 
acquires  in  such  life-and-death  emergencies,  all  the  grave, 
sweet  beauty  and  purity  of  her  life  in  these  five  years 
that  he  had  known  her. 

"Rebecca,"  he  said,  "you  might  trust  me  as  you  would 
trust  —  I  had  almost  said  God — in  this  matter,  but  I  will 
not  ask  that.  Only  tell  me,  is  this,  of  which  you  speak, 
absolute,  irreversible  ?  " 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment. 

"It  is  an  absolute,  irreversible  fact,"  she  said  at  last. 

"And  constitutes  a  positive,  legal  barrier  to  my  hopes? 
Forgive  me  for  pressing  you  so  closely,  but  so  much 
depends." 

"Mr.  Gladstone,"  she  said,  "there  is  no  legal  barrier, 
but  it  is  no-t  the  less  positive  for  that." 

With  that  the  stern,  critical  habit  of  his  mind  gave  way 
before  his  overmastering  passion. 

"Rebecca,"  he  said,  "tell  me  that  you  love  me,  put 
your  hand  in  mine  with  true  and  honest  frankness,  and  I 
will  face  the  world  with  you." 

"Mr.  Gladstone,"  she  replied,  "I  have  borne  pain  all  my 
life,  and  at  times  the  deeper  brand  of  ignominy;  but  I 
never  yet  inflicted  either,  intentionally,  and  I  never  will. 


304  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

If  I  should  say  I  loved  you,  and  then  should  marry  you, 
I  should  prove  my  vows  untrue." 

He  relapsed  into  a  grave  and  thoughtful  silence. 
Rebecca  was  suffering  untold  agonies,  which  finally 
wrenched  out  these  few  painful  words. 

"And  yet,"  she  said,  "I  cannot  bear  that  you  should 
think  too  hardly  of  me." 

"I  do  not,  Rebecca,"  he  interrupted.  "There  could  be 
no  crime  which  these  last  five  years  would  not  atone  for; 
and  out  of  crime  they  could  never  have  sprung." 

They  had  plunged  down  rocky  hill-sides,  into  a  deep 
and  tangled  wood,  where  the  dusk,  dew-laden  and  full  of 
earth-smells,  was  scarcely  penetrated  by  the  lingering 
glory  of  the  twilight  outside. 

"Rebecca,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  at  length,  "have  you 
never  told  this — your  history — to  any  one?" 

She  hesitated.  "To  no  one  but  Mrs.  Darrell,  and  to 
her  only  the  outlines." 

"And  do  you  think  she  has  an  equal  right  with  me  to 
your  confidence?" 

"Oh!  my  friend,  my  friend,"  she  cried  in  agony  that 
could  not  be  controlled,  "I  cannot  tell  you." 

"Rebecca,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was  full  of  restrained 
tenderness,  "you  cannot  know — it  is  impossible — how 
fully  you  might  trust  me.  I  do  not  reproach  you  for  that, 
but  I  do  feel  that  there  may  be  some  morbid  sensitiveness 
of  yours;  some  old,  old  wound,  unhealed  and  sorer  than 
it  ought  to  be,  that  would  not  turn  my  love  aside,  but 
would  only  make  it  the  more  tender;  and  which,  perhaps, 
if  you  would  bring  it  to  the  light,  might  take  a  healthier 
tone,  and  so  at  last  get  cured,  but  which  kept  back  in 
darkness  may  work  needless  ruin  to  both  of  us.  Won't 
you  permit  me  to  tell  Mrs.  Darrell  of  my  love  for  you,  and 
to  ask  her,  as  an  old  and  well-tried  friend,  if  she  can  bid 
me  God-speed  in  my  wooing." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  305 

"Oh!  Mrs.  Darrell  is  a  woman,  and  my  sister,  and  she 
can  forgive  everything." 

Mr.  Gladstone  had  been  deeply  shocked,  and  he  suffered 
intense  pain;  but  the  love  which  this  woman  had  wakened 
in  his  heart  was  only  rooted  in  the  strong  physical  stratum 
of  his  nature;  it  stretched  its  branches  and  bore  its  blos- 
soms far  up  in  a  higher,  more  celestial  element.  Her 
heart  and  soul  were  pure,  he  knew  that.  This  other  stain 
which  her  words  but  dimly  conveyed  to  his  mind,  if  he 
interpreted  her  rightly — it  grieved  and  shocked,  but  did 
not  wholly  dismay  him. 

They  rode  on  in  silence.  "Mr.  Gladstone,"  said  Rebecca, 
"I  cannot  bear  this  much  longer.  Will  you  please  to  turn 
the  horse  toward  home  ?  " 

He  obeyed  her.     They  were  two  miles  out  of  the  town. 

"My  friend,"  he  said,  "I  have  thought  this  all  over, 
and  I  cannot  give  you  up.  I  will  not  go  to  Mrs.  Darrell, 
since  you  seem  not  to  wish  it ;  but  I  appeal  to  your  own 
honor  and  conscience.  If  an  equally  grave  fault  existed 
to  your  knowledge  upon  my  side,  equally  remote  in  time, 
equally  disconnected  in  circumstances,  would  it  weigh 
seriously  on  your  mind  against  my  claim?" 

They  were  driving  over  an  open  country  now,  and  the 
moonlight  swept  across  her  face  as  she  lifted  it  to  him, 
lighting  up  its  drenched  and  tear-stained  beauty,  and 
giving  to  her  smile  a  saintly  sweetness. 

"  I  cannot  think  of  you  except  as  stainless,"  she  said, 
"  and  if  my  life  were  as  free  from  stain  as  my  soul  is,  I 
should  not  blush  to  put  my  hand  in  yoiirs,  in  mutual 
interchange  of  loving  vows.  I  say  this  not  to  encourage 
you;  but  simply  to  vindicate  myself,  as,  I  take  it,  every 
human  creature  has  the  right  to  do.  I  would  not  have  you 
think  that  you  had  loved  unworthily,  for  so  base  a  false- 
hood could  only  injure  both  of  us.  But  you  have  loved 
most  unhappily,  and  I  beg  you,  as  soon  as  may  be,  to 
N2 


306  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

renounce  that  love,  and  forget  one  who  could  bring  only 
misfortune  and  disgrace  to  your  proud,  unsullied  name." 

He  threw  the  rein  over  his  arm ;  he  put  his  arm  around 
her;  he  took  her  hand  in  his.  He  looked  into  her  eyes 
with  a  steady,  strong,  triumphant  glance.  "Rebecca," 
he  said,  "say  that  you  love  me;  I  will  be  put  off  with  no 
more  evasions." 

She  met  his  eye  with  a  mild,  regretful  glance,  that  yet 
was  so  deep,  so  full  of  unspoken  passion  and  yearning. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  love  you;  I  would  that  I  did  not." 

"You  shall  unsay  the  half  of  that  before  the  moon  goes 
down,"  he  said,  "for  the  love  I  bear  for  you  is  something 
which  misfortune  and  disgrace  can  never  turn  aside.  God 
gave  your  soul  to  my  soul,  and  mine  to  yours,  from  all 
eternity,  and  no  work  of  man  shall  have  power  to  abrogate 
the  gift.  Rebecca,  put  your  hand  in  mine  and  tell  me 
that  you  love  me,  and  that  you  only  hope,  as  time  goes  on, 
to  love  me  more  and  more." 

She  did  not  say  the  words  so  boldly  again,  but  neither 
did  she  append  to  them  the  offensive  wish. 

Mrs.  Darrell,  sitting  alone  upon  her  front  piazza,  enjoy- 
ing the  moonlight,  saw  a  carnage  driving  slowly  up  the 
avenue.  It  stopped  at  the  door,  and  Mr.  Gladstone  assisted 
Rebecca  to  alight.  She  stepped  forward,  peering  curiously 
into  Rebecca's  flushed,  disordered  face. 

"Mrs.  Darrell,"  said  the  gentleman,  with  steady,  joyous 
tones,  "congratulate  me;  I  am  an  engaged  young  man." 

Rebecca  tripped  past  them  into  the  house,  her  face 
burning  with  blushes. 

"I  do  congratulate  you  most  sincerely,"  said  Mrs. 
Darrell.  "No  one  living  knows  Reba  so  well  as  I  do. 
Therefore,  no  one  else  knows  so  well  as  I  how  deeply 
worthy  she  is  of  your  unspeakable  love  and  tenderness." 

"  I  thank  you  for  saying  that,"  he  said  earnestly,  offering 
her  his  hand,  "because  it  will  enable  me  all  the  more 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  307 

effectually  to  combat  the  misgivings  with  which  she 
perplexes  herself.  Good  night,  Mrs.  Darrell;  take  good 
care  of  my  pearl  among  women." 

Mrs.  Darrell  followed  him  with  her  eyes  as  he  rode 
down  the  avenue,  and  rejoiced  greatly  in  her  heart. 

"They  are  worthy  of  each  other,"  she  said,  "and  what 
more  could  I  say  of  either  of  them. 


308  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XXIX. 

THE  BIGHT  OF  A  WOMAN  TO  HAVE  A  HUSBAND. 

Nature  divides  the  life  of  woman  into  three  grand  eras — 
girlhood,  womanhood,  old  age.  With  Laura  Darrell  the 
second  of  these  was  drawing  to  a  close.  It  is  then  that  the 
Great  Mother,  with  strict  fidelity,  calls  each  of  her  daugh- 
ters to  account  for  her  stewardship,  drops  a  tear  and  a  sigh 
over  the  inevitable  penalty  of  each  long-forgotten  sin, 
breathes  a  benison  of  purest  love  for  every  duty  faithfully 
performed,  and  then  sets  her  seal  forever  upon  the  irrevo- 
cable Past. 

Released  thus  from  serving  in  the  Holiest  of  Holies, 
Laura  Darrell  was  now,  in  the  purest  sense,  a  citizen  of 
the  world.  But  this  time  of  intimate,  mysterious  com- 
muning with  Nature  was  one  of  severe  physical  trial.  Her 
husband  tried  to  comfort  her. 

"Laura,"  he  said,  "I  have  been  a  slave  to  business  long 
enough.  I'm  going  to  sell  out  my  active  interest  in  the 
mills,  retaining  only  a  silent  partnership,  and  that  will  give 
me  plenty  of  time  to  stay  with  you,  and  take  care  of  you. 
In  the  years  gone  by,  I  don't  think  I  have  always  done  my 
duty  by  you,  but  now  I'm  going  to  make  amends." 

He  finished  within  a  week  the  contemplated  arrange- 
ment, and  Laura  felt  that  now  indeed  she  should  have  a 
husband. 

But  Mr.  Darrell  found  that  he  could  not  throw  off  the 
habit  of  years  like  a  garment.  His  mornings  hung  heavily 
on  his  hands,  if  he  did  not  go  down  to  the  office  and  keep 
the  run  of  things  there.  If  he  staid  at  home  in  the  after- 
noon, or  took  Laura  out  to  drive,  he  missed  the  stimulus 
of  Jus  old  keen  activity,  and  very  likely  grew  listless  and 
indifferent.  Little  by  little,  too,  it  became  evident  that, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  309 

from  living  so  long  in  a  region  of  thought  and  feeling  so 
apart  from  that  of  his  wife,  there  had  grown  to  be  a  great 
gulf  between  them,  which  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  for 
him  to  pass.  When  Laura  talked  to  him  of  her  headaches, 
her  nervousness,  and  all  the  other  depressing  symptoms 
of  her  condition,  she  might  as  well  have  talked  Greek. 
He  heard  her,  felt  sorry  for  her  in  a  general  way,  but  had 
absolutely  no  sympathetic  appreciation  of  her  feelings. 

A  great  deal  is  said,  and  justly,  concerning  the  need  of 
training  young  women  to  make  good  wives;  but  who  ever 
thought  it  necessary  to  train  up  young  men  to  make  good 
husbands?  Michelet,  in  his  L' 'Amour,  has  indeed  made  a 
step  in  this  direction,  and,  considering  that  it  is  a  French- 
man talking  to  Frenchmen,  he  might  have  done  much 
worse.  The  intention,  indeed,  of  the  whole  book  is 
worthy  of  much  praise ;  but  the  execution  of  it  has 
involved  so  many  errors,  and  some  of  them  so  flagrant, 
and,  from  anybody  but  a  Frenchman,  whose  vision  has 
been  distorted  by  the  unblushing  immorality  of  the  people 
among  whom  he  lives,  so  insulting  to  woman,  that  the 
book  amounts  after  all  to  no  more  than  a  finger-post. 

In  marrying,  a  man  takes  into  his  care  and  keeping  a 
being  not  only  the  purest  in  spirit  which  the  world  contains, 
but  also  the  most  exquisite  and  delicate  in  physical  organ- 
ization —  an  organization  with  finer  adjustments  and  nobler 
uses  than  any  man  possesses,  however  perfect  he  may 
himself  be  in  physical  development.  This  being,  whom 
he  calls  his  wife,  has  her  seasons  of  exaltation  and  depres- 
sion ;  her  nodal  points  of  silence  as  well  as  her  tremulous 
chords  of  melody,  of  which  he  knows  nothing  but  the 
external  phenomena.  Furthermore,  she  has  a  whole  range 
of  experiences,  continuing  for  a  year  or  more  at  a  time,  and 
of  the  highest  possible  importance  to  himself,  herself,  and 
the  race,  in  which  he  cannot  possibly  share,  except  as  she 
admits  him  to  her  confidence,  and  this  confidence  it  is  not 


310  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

her  nature  to  impart,  except  under  the  tenderest  and  most 
delicately  appreciative  circumstances.  The  most  refined 
physical  manifestation  is  that  which  proceeds  from  the 
nerves ;  and  of  this  nervous  sensibility  she  has  more,  by 
virtue  of  that  part  of  her  organization  which  constitutes 
her  a  woman,  than  he  has  in  his  whole  body,  as  the  most 
enlightened  physicians  readily  allow.  She  is,  therefore, 
correspondingly  quick  and  delicate  in  her  feelings,  and 
shy  and  timid  in  her  manner  of  expressing  them,  except 
as  they  are  drawn  out  by  means  of  her  love  for  her 
husband,  which  impels  her  to  share  everything,  even 
this,  her  most  sacred  inheritance,  with  him.  But  the 
husband  at  his  marriage  knows  of  these  facts  only  the 
hard,  material  outlines;  because  medical  books,  being 
all  the  work  of  men,  contain  no  more  than  this.  If  the 
husband  be  a  coarse,  or  an  unobservant,  or  a  preoccupied 
man,  he  may  be  for  a  lifetime  the  companion  of  a  woman, 
and  her  deepest  meaning  be  all  the  time  as  much  a  sealed 
mystery  to  him,  as  the  curve  of  the  Ellipse  was  to  all 
astronomers,  until,  at  last,  the  truth  slowly  broke  upon 
the  world  that  it  was  the  sweep  of  God's  hand  for  the 
stars  to  follow  in. 

And  she  all  the  time  bears  the  burdens  alone,  which  it 
is  his  right  and  duty  to  be  daily  sharing  with  her. 

All  honor  to  the  French  savants  of  Medicine ;  from 
Geoffrey  St.  Hilaire,  through  a  brilliant  succession,  to 
Du  Bois  and  Cazeau,  and  others  of  like  spirit  in  our  own 
time.  Ten  thousand,  and  twice  ten  thousand  thanks  to 
them  for  letting  in  the  so  much  needed  light  of  science 
upon  the  old  vexed  question  of  the  essential  purity  of 
woman's  nature.  But  can  they  expect  those  poor,  hapless 
bodies,  fished  out  of  the  Seine,  stark  and  cold,  to  reveal 
to  them  the  glowing  secret  of  womanhood? 

Oh !  fathers,  and  brothers,  and  husbands,  if  you  would 
study  the  hearts  and  lives  of  the  dear  companions  of  your 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  311 

homes  with  tenderness,  and  purity,  and  love,  you  might 
shame  these  workers  in  poor,  dead  matter,  by  the  brilliancy 
of  your  discoveries. 

Laura  learned  all  these  things  by  sad  experience.  In  a 
month's  time,  the  story  of  her  daily  and  nightly  distresses 
had  grown  a  weariness  to  her  husband;  his  patience  was 
exhausted,  and  if  he  ever  spoke  of  her  ill-health  at  all,  it 
was  to  declare  that,  if  there  was  one  nuisance  and  vexa- 
tion in  this  life  greater  than  all  others,  it  was  a  sick  wife. 

If  the  husband  is  ill,  it  is  his  wife's  first  duty  to  nurse 
him  and  wait  upon  him  with  all  due  patience,  and  gentle- 
ness, and  fortitude.  If  the  wife  is  sick,  it  is  generally 
considered  that  she  is  making  a  very  heavy,  if  not  an 
unreasonable  demand  upon  her  husband's  time  and  tem- 
per. Let  her,  by  all  means,  get  well  as  soon  as  possible, 
if  she  expects  his  love  to  outlive  the  trial. 

And  now  the  great  temptation  of  Laura's  life  assailed 
her.  Her  husband's  love,  in  times  like  this,  fell  far  short 
of  her  actual  and  just  requirements.  She  could  not  make 
her  soul  contented  with  it.  Was  it  not  an  occasion  to 
beckon  the  tempter  to  her  side?  Laura  Dan-ell  had  a 
strong  mind,  and  a  pure  heart,  and  no  outward  sign  or 
token  gave  evidence  of  the  inward  weakness ;  but  many  a 
delicate  and  over-tasked  woman  has  gone  to  her  doom 
through  just  this  gap  in  conjugal  duties.  And  the  world 
has  condemned  her  so  much  the  more  because  she  had 
—  such  a  good  husband. 

But  in  this,  as  in  many  another  time  of  trial,  Laura 
leaned  on  her  friend. 

"Reba,"  she  said,  "you  must  give  up  your  copying, 
and  during  all  your  spare  hours  devote  yourself  to  me." 
And  Mr.  Gladstone,  who  had  an  interest,  now,  that  thig 
woman  should  not  be  overworked,  about  the  same  time 
refused  to  give  her  farther  employment.  So,  after  office 
hours,  the  two  women  had  long  talks  together. 


312  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

There  was  one  thing  which  Ralph  could  do,  and  did  do, 
without  stint,  and  that  was  to  watch  the  issues  of  new 
books,  and  keep  these  two  women  provided  with  the 
mental  aliment  they  so  much  loved.  To  be  sure  the  doctor 
had  said :  "  You  must  let  books  alone ;"  and  Laura  did 
abstain  from  laborious  reading;  but  she  took  great  delight 
in  watching  the  march  of  thought;  and  in  culling  here  and 
there  the  most  significant  tokens  of  its  progress.  And  to 
all  these  suggestions,  she  ever  added  much  that  was  the 
product  of  her  own  quick  and  fertile  brain. 

"I  am  so  glad,"  she  said  to  Reba,  one  day,  "to  see 
this  Woman  Question  everywhere  growing  in  import- 
ance. In  British  homes,  and  Roman  studios,  and  French 
ateliers,  and  in  our  own  American  halls  of  legislation,  it  is 
the  constantly  recurring  theme.  It  is,  to  be  sure,  only  the 
more  superficial  aspects  of  it  which  are  now  considered. 
There  are  deeps  on  deeps  yet  unsounded,  but  the  eternal 
underlying  principles  will  be  reached  at  length ;  and  then 
it  will  be  found  that,  as,  in  the  original  creation,  the  law 
of  precedence  was,  first  the  male  and  then  the  female;  and 
as,  though  men  of  science  are  slow  to  see  it,  the  same  law 
still  holds  in  human  reproduction,  so  the  eras  of  the  race 
arrange  themselves.  First,  the  material  and  masculine 
one;  second,  and  formed  from  its  substance,  as  woman 
from  the  rib  of  man,  the  feminine  or  spiritual  one." 

"  Very  like,  very  like,"  parenthesized  Ralph,  who  had 
strolled  into  the  room  during  the  conversation,  and  sat 
reading  a  magazine.  "  The  individual  woman  always  will 
have  the  last  word,  as  everybody  knows ;  why  shouldn't 
the  typical  woman  insist  on  the  same  privilege,  in  regard 
to  the  world's  affairs." 

Laura  went  on  without  heeding  him.  "  So  far,  woman 
has  lived  under  protest;  a  riddle,  a  perplexity  to  all 
beholders,  and  too  often  to  herself;  seen  by  poets  as  a 
princess  in  disguise,  and  by  practical  men  as  an  escaped 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  313 

lunatic,  sadly  in  need  of  a  straight  jacket.  Seeming  to 
herself  to  have  inherited  a  nature  as  sad,  and  profound, 
and  mysterious,  as  that  of  the  ancient  sphinx,  yet  patiently, 
though  painfully,  biding  her  time.  The  ages  only  can 
interpret  the  Divine,  but  they  are  in  themselves  the  mirror 
of  His  Being,  and  they  will  at  last  fully  reflect  His  whole 
purpose  concerning  woman.  Thinking  of  all  this,  and 
seeing  how  slowly  women  prepare  themselves  for  the  great 
coming  change,  I  long  to  cry  aloud : 

"  '  You  are  queens,  my  sisters; put  on  your  ermine!  Let 
every  thought,  and  word,  and  deed,  be  worthy  of  your 
royal  lineage!  Let  your  lives  unroll  themselves  before  the 
world,  in  a  pageantry  of  honor,  fortitude,  devotion,  purity, 
before  which  the  splendors  of  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of 
Gold  shall  grow  pale !  Our  brothers  have  subdued  the 
Avorld  to  the  power  of  the  flesh.  It  is  ours  to  subdue  it  to 
the  power  of  the  spirit.'" 

"  That  would  be  a  very  different  cry  from  the  one  which 
has  sounded  in  the  ears  of  woman  for  six  thousand  years," 
said  Rebecca.  "  So  long  as  labor  was  deemed  an  unmiti- 
gated evil,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  pain  and  peril  of  child- 
bearing  should  have  been  looked  upon  as  a  weakness  and 
a  curse  ;  but,  since  labor  is  found  to  be  beneficient,  and  of 
true  dignity,  one  would  think  that  the  vocation  of  woman, 
also,  ought  to  be  rescued  from  the  ancient  ban." 

"It  stings  my  soul  with  scorn  and  indignation,"  said 
Laura,  "  to  hear  the  functions  of  woman  stigmatized  as  a 
ehame  and  an  infirmity.  When  such  teachings  are  so 
universal,  when  to  the  pain  and  suffering  which  a  woman 
sees  before  her,  to  be  borne,  in  most  cases,  with  little 
help  from  her  husband,  is  added  a  sense  of  inferiority  and 
ignominy,  it  is  no  wonder  that  thousands  have  recourse  to 
the  most  cruel  and  unnatural  expedients  for  avoiding  them. 
It  is  a  burning  shame  and  disgrace  to  woman,  but  it  is  one 
for  which  men  are  fully  one-half  responsible." 
O 


314  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  I  liave  often  thought,"  said  Reba,  "  when  I  have 
heard  the  sex  reproached  with  never  having  produced  a 
genius  equal  to  that  of  Shakspeare,  or  Milton,  or  Goethe, 
that  the  world  greatly  misconceives  the  line  of  woman's 
power.  The  sex  may  or  may  not  ever  produce  such  exam- 
ples of  intellectual  greatness ;  but  it  is  very  certain,  that, 
without  the  agency  of  women,  these  men  could  never  have 
been  born  geniuses.  Men  like  Bonaparte  and  Shakspeare 
may  doubtless  owe  much  of  their  greatness  to  the  effect 
of  seemingly  fbrtuitious  circumstances,  upon  the  organ- 
ization of  the  mother,  as  Bonaparte  certainly  did,  and 
Shakspeare  most  probably;  but  it  is  safe  to  assert  that 
a  Washington  could  only  be  born  of  a  woman  whose 
soul  was  built  up  in  the  most  noble  and  harmonious 
proportions.  And  even  of-  Christ,  it  may  be  said,  without 
irreverence,  that  His  human  nature  could  never  have 
reached  its  perfect  poise  and  respondence  to  the  divinity 
within  it,  if  it  had  been  developed  from  any  flawy  or 
discordant  source." 

"  Reba,  the  more  I  think  these  things  over,  the  clearer 
it  becomes  to  me  that  the  progress  of  the  world,  or 
what  is  the  same  thing,  the  development  of  the  race, 
depends  mainly  upon  the  women  who  are  mothers.  Women 
are  God's  agents  for  renewing  the  spiritual  life  of  the 
world ;  and  during  the  time  of  the  direct  exercise  of  her 
maternal  functions,  nature  sets  the  mother  carefully  apart 
from  all  profane  or  unholy  uses  ;  guards  her  on  every  hand 
from  the  ordinary  perils  of  human  life,  and  impresses  upon 
her  nervous  system  a  peculiar  sensitiveness,  not  only  to  all 
untoward  agencies,  that  she  may  withdraw  herself  from 
them,  but  also  to  all  pure,  and  elevating,  and  refining 
influences,  that  she  may  drink  them  in,  and  so  expand  and 
uplift  her  own  soul,  for  the  expansion  and  uplifting  of  the 
new  soul  which  is  being  created.  If  women  would  only 
speak  aloud,  and  tell  the  world  what  they  know  concerning 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  315 

these  super-masculine  experiences,  there  would  be  proof 
brought  to  convince  the  most  scornful." 

"And  let  us  hope,  to  imbue  the  minds  of  women  with  a 
healthy,  cheerful  sense  of  the  responsibility  and  high  honor 
of  their  holy  calling ;  to  break  the  bonds  of  their  selfishness, 
to  open  their  eyes  to  true  wisdom,  and  so  to  help  on  by  a 
mighty  impetus  the  millennial  glory." 

At  that  moment,  Ralph  threw  down  his  magazine,  and 
joined  the  discussion.  He  had  grown  a  little  stout  with 
his  advancing  years,  and  had  now  and  then  a  thread  of 
silver  scattered  through  his  curling  hair,  but  was  still  a 
remarkably  handsome  man  of  forty-five,  with  the  alertness 
of  his  manner  subdued,  by  leisure,  into  a  look  of  keen 
intelligence,  mingled  with  good  humor.  He  was  just  in 
time  to  catch  the  tenor  of  Reba's  last  remark. 

"Woman's  rights  and  the  millennium ! "  he  exclaimed, 
with  the  familiarity  of  a  man  in  his  own  house.  "My 
dear  women,  you  are  carrying  this  matter  too  far.  When 
you  talk  about  these  exclusive  experiences  of  women, 
you  make  a  very  one-sided  affair  of  it,  forgetting  that  men, 
too,  have  their  exclusive  experiences.  What  does  a 
woman  know  about  the  troubles  and  perplexities  of  a 
business  man?  or,  what  does  the  wife  of  a  poet,  if  she 
be  an  ordinary  good  house-wife,  know  of  the  grand 
imaginations  and  inspirations  of  the  great  man's  soul?  I 
tell  you,  there  are  two  sides  to  the  story." 

"We  are  speaking  of  quite  a  different  thing  from  all 
that.  These  things  are  incidental,  mere  circumstances 
common  to  both  sexes.  It  may  just  as  well  be  the  woman 
— in  France  commonly  is — who  carries  on  the  business 
and  experiences  the  perplexities ;  or  who  has  the  poet 
soul  and  is  mated  with  the  common-place  man,  as  Mrs. 
Hemans  and  Mrs.  Norton  were.  But  this  other  thing  is  a 
matter  quite  separate,  in  which  every  woman — from  her 
who  scours  knives  and  scrubs  floors  for  a  living,  to  the 


316  A  AVOMAN'S  SECRET. 

queen  upon  her  throne — has  a  share,  and  to  which  no 
man,  from  highest  to  lowest,  can  be  admitted.  The  func- 
tions of  woman  which  are  additional  to  those  of  man, 
—  the  sacred  endowment  of  Heaven  to  the  mothers  of 
the  race  —  impose  upon  her,  from  the  moment  of  matu- 
rity, conditions  both  physical  and  mental,  of  health  and 
disease,  which  are  utterly  impossible  to  him,  and  for 
which  he  has  no  counterbalancing  experience.  The  func- 
tion of  maternity  is  not  a  small  and  unimportant  one,  but, 
as  reproduction  is  always  and  everywhere  the  highest  aim 
of  physical  life,  a  grand  and  crowning  one.  The  organism 
employed  is  only  less  complex  and  sensitive  than  the  brain, 
and  the  physical  experiences  to  which  it  gives  rise  form 
the  most  varied  and  important  modifications  of  the  human 
system  known  to  medical  science.  Is  it,  therefore,  to  be 
for  a  moment  supposed,  that  the  mental  experiences 
connected  with  it  are  less  important  and  less  varied? 
When  women  are  sufficiently  well  trained  to  write  medical 
books,  the  truth  about  this  matter  will  be  much  better 
understood  than  at  present.  Then  we  shall  know  that  all 
that  vast  range  of  diagnostics  which  has  baffled  the  skill 
and  intuition  of  physicians  of  all  ages,  is  not  the  infliction 
of  an  arbitrary  vengeance,  but  the  indication  of  nature's 
beneficence  toward  the  forming  soul." 

"Well,"  said  Ralph,  resignedly,  "of  course,  you  are  out 
of  my  reach  now;  but,  if  all  you  say  is  true,  it  appears  to 
me  that  the  sooner  one  half  of  the  sex  turn  doctors,  to 
expound  these  things  to  the  other  half  and  to  the  world, 
the  better.  Judging  by  my  own  limited  observation,  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  physicians  of  the  male  sex  are 
puzzled.  I  always  thought  it  was-  an  indication'of  Divine 
goodness  toward  man  that  He  spared  him  all  these  things, 
and  made  an  inferior  sort  of  creature  on  purpose  to  bear 
them  for  him." 

"That  has  been  the  usual  comfortable  supposition  of 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  817 

men,"  said  Laura,  "  and  too  many  women  have  taken  it 
ready-made  from  their  hands ;  have  been  contented  to 
consider  themselves  the  scape-goats  of  the  race  in  this 
matter  of  suffering ;  to  put  on  long  faces,  and  say  with 
Shylock,  that '  sufferance  is  the  badge  of  all  our  tribe,'  and 
at  the  most  to  wonder  why  God,  who  is,  as  they  are 
taught,  a  being  of  love  and  justice,  should  manifest  such 
partiality  to  the  stronger  sex." 

"  Oh  !  the  curse  covers  all  that,  you  know,"  said  Ralph, 
complacently. 

"  So  the  curse  of  Ham  was  said  to  cover  African  slavery, 
but  the  cover  got  too  small,  one  day,  and  the  slaves  went 
free.  And  so  I  fancy  it  will  be  in  the  other  case.  Seriously, 
Ralph,  God  is  not  unjust,  and  never  inflicts  extraordinary 
pains,  except  as  a  means  of  extraordinary  good." 

"Well,  you've  a  great  work  before  you,  if  you  expect 
to  oust  men  from  the  comfortable  position  of  superiority 
which  they  have  enjoyed  for  six  thousand  years,  with  all 
the  privileges  and  perquisites  attached.  I  wish  you 
success,  but  you'll  need  something  more  than  good 
wishes." 

It  was  half  banter — half  earnest — but  Rebecca  said  to 
herself,  as  he  left  the  room — 

"  The  mills  of  God  grind  slowly,  bat  they  grind  exceeding  small ; 
With  patience  stands  He  waiting,  with  exactness  grinds  He  all." 


318  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XXX. 

THE    VERDICT    OF    THE    SEWING    CIBCLE. 

When  Mr.  Slade  left  Mrs.  DarreH's  presence  upon  the 
occasion  heretofore  chronicled,  he  was  full  of  wrath  and 
indignation.  If  there  is  one  prerogative  of  men  which  is 
held  by  the  sex  in  general  more  high,  and  sacred,  and 
indefeasible,  than  any  other,  it  is  that  of  making  them- 
selves as  vile  as  they  please  in  the  matter  of  licentiousness. 
Women  may  gently  expostulate  with  them  concerning 
their  materiality  in  religious  things,  and  they  will  sigh 
profoundly  and  repentantly  over  the  error  of  their  ways; 
they  may  inveigh  against  the  use  of  alcoholic  liquors  and 
tobacco,  and  the  men  will  still,  in  their  better  moods,  cry 
peccavi,  with  genuine  humility;  even  the  charge  of  gaming 
anjd  recklessness  of  living,  they  will  meet  with  a  reticence 
which  is  not  vindictive  ;  but  let  a  woman  dare  to  point  her 
finger  in  the  direction  of  the  unlawful  indulgence  of  their 
lust,  and  every  quill  on  the  porcupine's  back  is  erect  in  an 
instant. 

Men  will  make  laws  to  punish  every  other  species  of 
crime,  but  this ;  but  herein  they  will  brook  no  interference 
whatever.  In  this  matterthey  will  be  absolute,  untrammeled, 
defiant  of  God  and  their  fellows.  If  there  is  any  reason 
at  all  for  this,  it  is  that  they  have  been  taught  that  it  is  a 
folly  to  injure  themselves,  a  crime  to  injure  their  fellow- 
man,  but  a  mere  matter  of  caprice  whether  or  not  they 
will  be  just  to  this  weak  creature  which  nature  has  provided 
for  their  use. 

It  was  exactly  in  this  spirit  that  Mr.  Slade  resented  the 
indignity  offered  him  by  Mrs.  Darrell.  His  first  impulse 
was  the  natural  one  of  shame  and  decency,  to  conceal  the 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  819 

shaft,  but  almost  instantaneously  the  other  feeling  con- 
quered it.  Long  before  he  reached  his  lodgings,  he  had 
said  to  himself: 

"Mrs.  Darrell  is — Mrs.  Darrell;  but  she  shall  neverthe- 
less be  taught  that  she  cannot  interfere  in  a  man's  private 
affairs  in  this  way,  with  impunity.  There  are  other  women 
in  this  town  just  as  good  as  Mrs.  Darrell,  who  will  not  be 
sorry  for  an  occasion  to  wound  her  pride.  We'll  give  the 
matter  an  airing." 

If  a  woman  is  to  be  hounded,  the  rule  is  to  set  the 
women  on.  There  is  a  class  of  them  that  are  well  trained 
to  the  purposes  of  their  masters,  and  they  have  naturally 
a  keener  scent  for  evil,  a  more  vivid  imagination,  and 
stronger  powers  of  vituperation  than  those  gentlemen 
possess. 

It  was  not  a  week  before  the  village  was  ablaze  with 
scandal.  There  was  a  class,  as  there  always  will  be,  in 
every  order-loving  town,  whose  verdict  was,  "  Served  him 
right."  Their  sentiment  was,  if  the  law  cannot  be  made 
to  reach  a  man's  immoralities,  something  must;  and  indi- 
viduals have  a  perfect  right  to  take  the  matter  of  self-defense 
into  their  own  hands.  Below  that  was  a  class  of  men,  not 
themselves  immaculate,  to  whom,  of  course,  self-preserva- 
tion was  the  first  law ;  then  a  class  of  women,  who  had 
husbands,  or  sons,  or  brothers,  who  needed  protection,  and 
who  had  been  well  drilled  to  cry  out  that  this  was  a  matter 
in  which  the  modesty  of  women  commanded  them  to  be 
silent ;  and,  still  below  them,  a  class  of  women  and  young 
girls,  the  natural  "vines,"  whose  one  prevailing  instinct 
was  to  stand  by  every  man  through  right  and  wrong, 
because  who  could  tell  which  one  of  the  sex  might  be 
their  future  husband. 

This  latter  class  was  the  more  numerous,  in  this  case, 
because  the  gentleman  in  question  was  very  popular  in  his 
own  set.  A  circle  of  young  ladies,  among  whom  Miss 


320  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

Lillie  Meredith  was  very  prominent, "  adored"  him.  These 
unanimously  resolved,  to  use  their  own  elegant  phraseology, 
to  "stick  up"  for  Leslie  Slade,  under  any  and  all  circum- 
stances. 

Of  course,  with  all  this  publicity,  this  affair  could  not  be 
kept  out  of  the  sewing  circle,  where  the  open  review  of 
the  young  man's  life  led  to  a  great  deal  of  remark,  some 
for,  some  against  the  subject  of  it,  which  cannot  properly 
be  repeated  here ;  but  which  resulted  in  setting  many 
sensible  and  judicious  people  thinking,  that,  if  ever  the 
homes  of  society  are  protected  against  these  invaders  of 
family  peace,  the  good  work  must  be  done,  nay,  that  it 
ought  properly  to  be  done  by  women.  If  they  have  not 
the  necessary  spirit  and  conscience,  where  in  the  world 
shall  these  requisites  be  found  ? 

Yet,  after  all,  when  the  evening  came,  and  Mr.  Leslie 
Slade  appeared  in  the  parlor,  he  perceived  little  diminution 
in  the  ardor  of  his  welcome.  Some  few  there  were  who 
looked  a  trifle  coldly  at  him,  but  the  evident  zeal  with 
which  Miss  Meredith,  and  her  set,  strove  to  allay  any 
suspicion  of  disloyalty  which  might  arise  in  the  young 
man's  mind,  more  than  soothed  his  sensitive  vanity. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  evening,  happening  to  find 
himself  alone  with  Miss  Meredith,  in  a  corner  of  the  piazza, 
he  ventured  to  say  to  her: 

"Is  it  fancy,  do  you  think;  or  is  Mrs.  Evans  a  little  less 
cordial  to  your  unworthy  servant,  than  usual?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  say  about  that,"  said  Miss  Lillie.  "  I 
only  know  that  some  of  the  ladies  have  been  abusing  you 
fearfully,  this  afternoon.  You  may  be  sure  I  wasn't  one." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  I  have  to  thank  you,  I  am  sure.  But  would 
you  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  what  were  the  charges  they 
brought?" 

"  Oh !  I  couldn't  do  that;  but  it  all  grew  out  of  that 
cruel  speech  of  Mrs.  Darrell." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  321 

"  For  which  1  never  cared  the  snap  of  my  finger.  Mrs. 
Dan-ell  is — insignificant." 

"Perfectly  so, in  such  matters.  She  sets  herself  up  too 
much  above  her  neighbors,  for  anybody  to  care  about  her." 

"But,  then,  I  suppose  her  position  might  give  her  words 
some  weight." 

"  With  certain  people,  perhaps ;  but  not  with  those  who 
are  your  friends.  I'm  sure  I  think  the  whole  affair  in  very 
bad  taste,  and  so  I  am  sure  does  every  one.  Let's  say  no 
more  about  it." 

"  Certainly  not,  if  you  wish  it.  I  can  think  of  twenty 
pleasanter  things  to  talk  about,"  and  he  went  on  talking, 
no  doubt,  about  those  twenty  other  things,  for  the  two 
were  missed  from  the  parlor,  and  their  absence  commented 
upon,  before  they  had  left  that  well  shaded  nook  among 
the  Madeira  vines. 

Yet,  cavalierly  as  they  had  disposed  of  Mrs.  Darrell  and 
her  opinion,  it  is  nevertheless  certain,  that,  from  that  very 
time,  Mr.  Leslie  Slade  was  looked  upon  with  increasingly 
less  favor  by  the  better  class  of  society  in  Wyndham.  For 
the  first  six  months  the  change  was  scarcely  apparent;  at 
the  end  of  a  year  it  was  quite  so.  By  that  time,  he  began 
to  feel  that  there  was  but  one  means  of  salvation  for  him ; 
he  must  marry.  Miss  Lillian  Meredith  was  not  the  woman 
he  would  have  chosen  eighteen  months  before ;  but,  when 
it  became  evident  that  his  chances  for  doing  better  were 
growing  few,  he  made  the  most  of  her  devotion  to  him, 
and  asked  her  to  become  his  wife.  Her  delight  was 
unspeakable,  and  she  named  an  early  day. 

At  this  very  sewing  circle,  Mr.  Linscott  met  the  object 
of  his  affections,  and  enjoyed  also  a  half  hour's  tefe-d-tete 
upon  the  piazza.  Mr.  Linscott  had  been  fully  satisfied, 
when  he  first  became  acquainted  with  Miss  Ridalhuber, 
that  she  was  possessed  of  that  gentle,  yielding  disposition, 
which  he  considered  of  the  first  importance  in  a  wife. 


322  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

He  was  not  yet,  and  very  likely  never  would  be,  wholly 
undeceived.  It  had,  nevertheless,  invariably  happened, 
that,  when  their  tastes  or  opinions  differed,  she  had  not 
been  the  one  to  yield.  On  this  particular  occasion,  she 
had  mentioned  to  him  the  time  when  it  would  be  necessary 
for  her  to  leave  Wyndham. 

"So  soon,  my  angel,"  was  the  reply.  "Can  you  not  be 
brought  to  reconsider  that  decision?  " 

"I  should  be  very  happy  to,  but  papa's  directions  are 
quite  explicit." 

"  And  you  are  so  obedient  a  daughter  that  you  do  not 
think  of  expostulating.  Azarian,  I  yield  at  once.  Such 
obedience  on  your  part  delights  me.  There  is  something 
in  the  spectacle  of  a  gentle,  refined,  intelligent  woman, 
yielding  herself  gi-aciously  to  the  dictation  of  her  male 
protectors,  simply  because  Providence  has  so  ordered,  that 
touches  me  inexpressibly." 

"I  have  always  supposed,"  said  Azarian,  meekly,  "that 
it  was  my  duty  as  a  Christian  to  be  obedient,  and  I  hope  I 
have  endeavored  to  perform  it." 

And  then  they  went  on  to  talk  of  the  wedding  day. 
Mr.  Linscott  proposed  May.  He  was  the  more  particular 
about  May,  because,  independently  of  his  natural  haste  in 
the  matter,  it  would  be  inconvenient  for  him  to  be  absent 
from  his  parish  later  in  the  season  than  that. 

"How  very  unfortunate,"  said  Miss  Ridalhuber;  "I  am 
sure  mamma  would  never  consent  to  my  being  married  in 
May." 

"Why  not,  my  sweetest?" 

"Because  it  is  the  anniversary  month  of  poor,  dear 
brother  John's  death." 

"Ah!"  said  Mr.  Linscott,  regretfully,  "let  us  say  April, 
then ;  I  should  like  that  even  better." 

"Of  course,"  said  Azarian,  "I  should  prefer  to  please 
you  in  this  matter,  but — " 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  323 

"What  is  it,  Azarian?  You  must  never  be  afraid  to 
speak  to  me  with  the  most  entire  confidence." 

"You  know  brother  Paul  will  be  studying  medicine 
during  the  winter,  at  Philadelphia.  He  will  not  be  able 
to  be  at  home  before  the  first  of  May,  and  I  could  never 
think  of  making  preparations  for  the  wedding  without 
Paul's  assistance.  I  have  always  been  so  accustomed  to 
rely  on  Paul.  You  know  I  am  not  at  all  a  self-reliant 
person." 

"  But  June  is  really  a  very  inconvenient  month  for  me." 

"Oh!  but  you  have  such  capacities  for  disposing  of 
things.  Do  you  know,  you  always  reminded  me  before  — 
before  I  at  all  thought  of  you  as  a  lover — when  I  saw 
your  energy  and  determination — of  Napoleon's  boast  that 
he  controlled  circumstances." 

Mr.  Linscott  smiled.  That  bit  of  adroit  flattery  had 
done  its  work.  It  was  settled  that  June  was  to  be  the 
month. 

"Early  in  June,"  he  still  stipulated. 

"The  very  first  week,  if  you  like." 

"Mr.  Linscott  kissed  her,  and  inly  congratulated  him- 
self upon  having  secured  such  a  dear,  confiding,  obedient 
creature  for  a  wife. 

That  same  evening,  as  Miss  Ridalhuber  stood  combing 
out  her  fine  hair  before  the  glass,  Mrs.  Evans  entered  the 
room. 

"Azarian,  dear,"  she  said,."!  noticed  that  you  had  a 
long  conversation  with  Mr.  Linscott  this  evening,  and  I 
could  not  rest  till  I  knew  if  the  wedding  day  was 
appointed." 

"It  is,"  said  Azarian,  calmly. 

"And  when  is  it  to  be?" 

"  The  fourth  of  next  June." 

"I  thought  he  would  have  been  in  more  haste." 

"He  was,  rather,  but  I  vetoed  a  short  engagement  as 


324  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

improper.  I  didn't  intend  to  forego  the  pleasure  of 
another  winter  in  town.  To  come  to  the  country  to  reside 
in  summer  is  bad  enough.  I  never  could  endure  a  winter 
to  commence  with." 

"But  why  not  April  or  May?  I  really  am  impatient  to 
see  the  thing  consummated;  it  is  of  so  much  importance 
to  you,  you  know,  to  be  well  settled  in  life." 

"Yes;  but  I'm  in  no  particular  hurry.  As  the  case 
stands  now,  I  think  I  can  afford  to  wait.  As  for  April  or 
May,  spring  things  can  never  be  really  elegant,  you  know, 
and  they  only  last  a  few  weeks.  At  the  first  of  June  I 
can  have  the  benefit  of  the  summer  styles,  and  then  my 
dresses  will  be  fresh  till  October.  As  every  one  will  know 
that  I  am  about  to  be  married,  I  shall  get  very  little  for 
spring,  so  that  all  the  expense  can  be  for  the  trousseau, 
Besides,  I  have  a  fancy  for  June,  and  I  shall  go  to  Saratoga 
on  my  wedding  tour." 

"  Such  a  cool  head  as  you  have,  Azarian,  and  how  you 
do  manage  that  man." 

"  That  last  ought  to  be  no  wonder  to  you,  ^lise." 

"Mark  would  be  very  impracticable,  I  know,  if  it  were 
not  for  my  influence  over  him;  but,  then,  I  am  not  half  so 
cool  as  you.  However,  I  congratulate  you  with  all  sincerity. 
I  suppose  men  need  managing,  else  God  would  not  have 
adapted  women  so  exactly  to  the  purpose." 

Miss  Ridalhuber  acquiesced  with  perfect  simplicity;  but 
a  disinterested  observer  might  possibly  query  whether, 
after  all,  it  was  the  Divine  intention  that  a  woman  should 
use  the  very  considerable  power  which  is  undoubtedly 
entrusted  to  her,  wholly  for  her  own  selfish  purposes. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  325 


XXXI. 

MILTON   GAINES,  JUNIOR. 

Village  scandal  had  few  terrors  for  Mrs.  Darrell,  and 
even  the  fact  that  Mr.  Slade  and  his  party  had  voted  her 
"insignificant,"  did  not  in  the  least  disturb  her  peace  of 
mind.  She  was  far  more  deeply  interested  in  the  success 
of  Joanna's  experiment  with  Milton  Gaines,  Junior.  The 
doctor,  with  his  usual  regard  for  the  forms,  had  already 
announced  his  intention  of  obtaining  legal  sanction  for 
this  change  in  the  name  of  the  youth;  and  Miss  Joanna's 
taste  and  industry  had  so  modified  his  personal  appearance 
that  a  stranger  would  scarcely  have  imagined  that  he  was 
not  "to  the  manner  born."  There  was  very  little  said 
about  it,  but  the  truth  was  that  the  hearts  of  these  two 
lonely  people  were  greatly  cheered  by  the  presence  of  this 
little  child.  When  people  are  young,  they  may  fancy 
children  are  a  nuisance,  and  purchase  some  years  of  selfish 
comfort  and  freedom  from  annoyance  by  dispensing  with 
their  presence.  But,  as  they  advance  in  years,  they  inva- 
riably feel  how  wise  is  nature's  way  of  completing  her 
circle,  by  linking  the  hand  of  the  aged  in  the  tender  clasp 
oij  the  little  child.  The  doctor  had  given  his  life  to  these 
women  who  so  much  needed  it,  and  he  had  never  deeply 
repented  the  sacrifice.  But  it  was  a  consolation  to  him, 
now  that  the  silver  threads  outnumbered  the  dark  ones  in 
his  locks,  to  lead  this  child  by  the  hand,  to  hold  him  upon 
his  knee,  to  impart  to  him  some  of  the  many  lessons  which 
his  long  experience  of  life  had  taught  him.  He  liked  to 
think,  too,  that  the  boy  bore  his  name ;  that  by  and  by, 
when  he  should  be  laid  in  the  church-yard,  and  his  life 
should  be  only  a  quickly  fading  memory,  this  boy  should 


326  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

keep  his  name  still  fresh  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  should, 
mayhap,  by  his  virtues  and  usefulness,  add  to  it,  if  not 
increase  of  honors,  yet,  in  some  measure,  length  of  days. 

It  was  curious  to  hear  the  grave  aphorisms  which  the 
old  man  poured  into  the  ears  of  the  boy,  and  to  watch  the 
look  of  intelligence  upon  the  child's  face,  which  seemed 
to  say  that  the  heart  also  was  impressed.  Some  childish 
loss  had  brought  the  tears  to  Milton's  eyes. 

"  My  boy,"  said  the  doctor,  gravely,  yet  not  unkindly, 
"fools  and  heroes  never  weep.  The — boy — who  never 
weeps,  is — a — hero;  the — man — who  never  weeps,  is — 
a  fool — or  a  knave." 

So  Milton  dried  his  tears,  and  his  heart  grew  big  with 
the  thought  of  being  a  hero. 

As  for  Miss  Joanna,  she  took  on  the  mother-care  as  she 
had  never  done  for  little  Kitty.  A  woman's  heart  goes 
out  with  so  imich  deeper  yearning  and  tenderness  to  her 
sons  than  to  her  daughters.  Their  future  seems  so  much 
wider ;  the  scope  of  their  lives  so  much  grander,  and, 
alas!  the  perils  and  dangers  which  beset  them  so  much 
more  fatal.  So  Joanna,  like  any  true  mother,  mingled, 
with  the  mending  of  trowsers,  tender,  foreboding  prayers. 
She  emptied  the  heterogeneous  contents  of  play-boxes, 
with  strange  yearnings  for  indices  of  future  character. 
She  trained  the  youth  in  manners  and  morals  with  a 
trembling,  at  times,  almost  a  hopeless  forecast.  So,  day 
by  day,  her  best  and  most  intimate  life  grew  into  his  life, 
till,  if  he  coughed,  she  trembled;  and  if,  over-tired  from 
play,  he  fell  into  a  flushed  and  restless  sleep,  she  called 
the  doctor,  to  know  if  the  child  hadn't  a  fever;  because 
if  he  should  die,  you  know ! 

And  people  sighed  about  poor  Joanna  Gaines,  that  she 
was  wearing  her  life  out  for  that  child,  and  wondered  the 
doctor  did  not  interfere;  as  if  every  true  mother  living 
had  not  worn  out  her  own  life  in  just  exactly  that  way,  to 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  327 

make  fresh,  aud  strong,  and  beautiful,  the  lives  of-  her 
children.  Worn  it  out,  did  I  say?  God  does  not  suffer 
such  lives  to  wear  out.  He  renews  them  day  by  day. 
Statistics  will  show  you  that,  of  all  His  human  creatures, 
He  gives  to  mothers  the  longest  lives. 

But  Joanna  had  other  trials.  She  was  naturally  a  deeply 
religious  person,  and  her  whole  soul  Was  bent  upon  giving 
this  boy  a  thorough  doctrinal  training.  When  she  had 
commenced  this  course  with  Kitty,  beginning  duly  and 
conscientiously,  when  the  child  reached  her  third  year, 
with  the  old  Primer, 

"In  Adam's  fall, 
We  sinned  all," 

the  doctor  had  not  found  a  word  of  fault.  But  now,  to 
Joanna's  surprise,  he  said  to  her  one  day, 

"  Joanna,  girls  will  take  almost  any  kind  of  religious 
instruction,  and  get  good  out  of  it,  because  their  natures 
are  religious.  It  isn't  so  with  boys.  If  you  are  not  very 
careful,  they  will  take  dislikes  and  prejudices,  and  so  get 
more  harm  than  good.  If  I  were  you,  I  wouldn't  teach 
Milton  the  Westminster  catechism  quite  yet,  not — quite 
— yet.  Tell  him  about  Christ,  and  the  good  women  and 
the  good  men  who  lived  about  him  and  loved  him.  Feed 
him  with  milk  first ;  boys  don't  take  to  strong  meat  in 
religious  things  so  quick  as  girls  do." 

Now,  Joanna,  with  all  her  faith  in  her  brother,  knew 
that  he  was  not  a  professed  Christian;  that  he  had  stronger 
dislikes  among  the  clergy  than  among  any  other  class, 
though  there  were,  here  and  there,  ministers  whom  he 
thoroughly  esteemed;  that,  generally,  he  was  broader  and 
more  latitudinarian  in  his  views  than  she  would  have 
desired.  Therefore,  there  was  a  conflict  in  her  mind 
whether  or  not  it  was  quite  safe  in  this  matter  to  follow 
his  advice.  After  much  study  and  prayer,  she  finally 


328  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

compromised  the  matter.  She  did  not  teach  him  the 
Westminster  catechism,  seeing  that  at  six  years  old  he 
could  hardly  be  expected  fully  to  understand  all  its  pro- 
found meanings.  She  did  teach  him  about  Christ,  took 
great  pains  to  impress  his  youthful  imagination  with  the 
stories  of  the  Shepherds,  and  the  Wise  Men,  and  the  Babe 
lying  in  a  manger ;  and  then  she  gave  him,  besides,  a 
simple,  clear  outline  of  Christ's  mission  and  agency  in  the 
plan  of  salvation,  to  which  the  doctor  did  not  object. 

"I  know  how  strictly  Milton  was  brought  up,"  said 
Joanna,  "and  it  did  not  make  a  Christian  of  him,  at  least, 
not -outwardly;  though  I  trust  God,  who  sees  the  heart, 
does  not  always  follow  our  blind  judgment.  Let  us  be  so 
tender  with  this  young  soul,  that  Christianity,  at  least, 
shall  not  wear  a  forbidding  aspect  to  him." 

It  comforted  Joanna  a  good  deal  to  know  that  Mr.  Evans, 
her  own  minister,  and  a  man  full  of  Christian  love  and 
zeal,  quite  approved  her  course;  but  Mr.  Linscott,  who, 
being  a  good  deal  in  Wyndham  this  summer,  took  great 
interest  in  Miss  Joanna's  plans,  heartily  demurred. 

One  warm  August  afternoon,  Mr.  Linscott  had  been 
drinking  tea  with  Miss  Joanna,  and  this  very  subject  of 
Milton's  religious  training  had  been  under  discussion. 
After  tea  they  all  went  into  the  neat,  old-fashioned  parlor, 
with  its  furniture  of  mahogany  and  haircloth,  studded 
with  brass  nails,  and  its  portraits  in  oil  looking  down  from 
the  walls.  It  was  rather  a  solemn  room  to  Milton,  Jr., 
and  when  he  was  called  into  it,  to  see  Mr.  Linscott  and  be 
talked  to  about  religion,  the  mercury  in  his  thermometer 
sank  quite  into  his  boot  heels.  But  the  doctor,  noticing 
the  fall  of  his  countenance,  took  his  hand  gravely  and 
said  to  him: 

"Milton,  my  boy,  never  be  afraid  of  anybody.  Know 
yourself,  that  is  all." 

So  encouraged  and  led  in  by  the  doctor,  Milton  took 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  329 

heart  of  grace,  and  stood  before  Mr.-Linscott  with  an 
open  brow  and  a  confident  eye. 

Miss  Joanna,  in  her  pretty  white  jaconet,  and  old  fash- 
ioned jewelry  of  jet  and  pearl,  and  the  dainty  rose  blooming 
on  her  cheek,  and  motherly  trembling  and  solicitude  in 
her  eye,  was  far  more  nervous  than  he  appeared ;  while  the 
doctor,  in  his  great  arm-chair  by  the  window,  looked  grave, 
and  hid  a  twinkle  in  his  eye  by  downcast  lids. 

"Milton,"  said  Mr.  Linscott,  "let  me  hear  you  say  your 
Primer  verses." 

"  The  boy  commenced  with  "Adam's  Fall,"  and  went 
straight  on,  through  the  whole  alphabetical  line,  without 
blunder  or  hesitation.  His  courage  rose,  as  he  neared  the 
close  of  his  task,  and  seeing  Miss  Joanna's  happy  eye,  and 
Mr.  Linscott's  look  of  grave  approval,  he  wound  up  with 
a  great  flourish,  and  uplifted  voice : 

"  Zaccheus  he 

Did  climb  a  tree, 

His  Lord  to  see; 

The  limb  did  break,  and  he  did  fall, 
And  he  didn't  tee  his  Lord  at  att.» 

"  Oh !  Milton,  how  covild  you  ?"  exclaimed  Miss  Joanna. 

"  The  doctor  said  so,"  said  Milton,  stoutly,  with  a  look 
which  plainly  indicated  his  firm  faith  in  the  historical 
verity  of  the  statement. 

"But,  then,  it  isnotin  the  book,  you  know,  Milton." 

Mr.  Linscott  looked  very  grave,  but  finally  coughed,  and 
passed  on  to  the  next  exercise. 

"  Who  made  you,  child  ?  "  he  asked,  solemnly. 

"  God,"  the  boy  replied,  in  a  reverent  tone. 

"  What  is  God  ?    I  suppose  you  know  your  catechism  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Milton. 

"I  am  sorry  for  that,"  said  Mr.  Linscott;  "I  hold  that 
children  cannot  too  early  be  taught  the  great  foundations 
of  our  holy  belief.  When  my  little  Minnie  was  three  years 
OS 


330  A  AVOMAN'S  SECRET. 

old,  she  could  recite  it  perfectly.  I  shall  tell  you  what 
God  is,  and  I  hope  you  will  try  to  remember.  In  the 
language  of  the  Westminster  catechism:  '  God  is  a  spirit, 
infinite,  eternal,  and  unchangeable  in  His  being,  wisdom, 
power,  holiness,  justice,  goodness  and  truth.'  Now,  my 
son,  can  you  remember  that?" 

After  a  few  trials,  Milton  was  able  to  repeat  it  correctly. 

"  There,  Milton,"  said  Mr.  Linscott,  with  satisfaction, 
"  if  you  don't  learn  anything  more  than  that  to-day,  you 
will,  nevertheless,  have  cause  to  bless  the  day  as  long  as 
you  live." 

"Milton,"  said  the  doctor,  "what  is  a  spirit?" 

"  New  England  rum,"  answered  Milton,  promptly. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  Mr.  Linscott,  much  shocked,  "  that  is  a  very 
serious  error  ?y 

"Guess  not,"  said  Milton;  "the  doctor  always  calls  it 
spirit ;  and  when  Tom  Barker  got  drunk,  and  fell  off  a  load 
of  hay,  and  broke  his  neck,  Miss  Joanna  took  me  to  the 
funeral,  and  the  minister  said  the  Lord  came  to  Tom  in 
that  black  bottle ;  and  that  bottle  had  rum  in  it,  I  know" 

Mr.  Linscott  spent  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  striving  to 
enlighten  the  child's  mind  concerning  the  difference  be- 
tween matter  and  spirit;  not,  however,  with  the  most 
satisfactory  success ;  seeing  that  the  language  of  theolo- 
gians is  usually,  for  some  occult  reason,  very  widely  different 
from  the  simple  phraseology  in  which  their  Master  taught 
the  multitudes  ;  which  is,  perhaps,  one  great  reason  why 
the  "carnal  heart"  is  so  averse  to  their  teachings. 

Miss  Joanna  was  the  more  pained  at  this  want  of  spiritual 
perception  in  Milton,  because  she  had  taken  him  to  that 
funeral,  in  opposition  to  the  doctor's  ideas,  for  the  express 
purpose  of  impressing  his  ybung  mind  with  a  terror  of  the 
judgments  of  God.  Of  course,  if  the  doctor  had  not 
viewed  the  result  with  a  twinkle  of  secret  satisfaction,  he 
would  have  been  more  or  less  than  human. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  331 

But  the  religious  examination  went  on. 

"Milton,"  said  Mr.  Linscott,  "when  I  say  that  God  is 
an  all-powerful  Being,  what  do  I  mean  ?" 

"  That  He  can  do  anything  He  pleases." 

"  Yes ;  in  the  days  of  Joshua,  He  commanded  the  sun 
and  moon  to  stand  still,  and  they  obeyed  Him.  Do  you 
suppose  God  could  put  the  meeting-house  into  your  pocket, 
if  He  chose?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Milton. 

"Why  not,  Milton?  If  He  could  part  the  Red  Sea,  so 
that  the  Israelites  could  walk  over  on  dry  land,  and  make 
even  the  sun  and  moon  stand  still  in  the  heavens,  why 
couldn't  He  put  the  meeting-house  into  your  pocket  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  hav'n't  got  any,"  said  Milton. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Mr.  Linscott,  taken  a  little  aback. 

"  Milton,"  said  the  doctor,  with  deep  interest,  "  hav'n't 
you  got  any  pocket?" 

Miss  Joanna  hastened  to  explain. 

"When  he  came  here,"  she  said,  "his  clothes  had 
pockets  in  them;  and  he  kept  them  so  full  of  everything, 
knives,  and  keys,  and  strings,  and  apples,  and  doughnuts, 
and  sticks,  and  old  stockings  to  make  balls  of,  and  they 
tore  out  so,  that  when  I  made  his  new  clothes  I  did  not 
put  in  any  pockets." 

"  That  will  never  do/'  said  the  doctor ;  boys  must  have 
pockets.  You  may  teach  them  the  Westminster  catechism 
or  not,  as  you  like  ;  but  you  must  give  them  pockets.  It 
hurts  a  boy's  self-respect  not  to  have  a  pocket;  I  should 
expect  a  boy  to  grow  up  a  liar  and  a  thief,  if  he  didn't 
have  one.  Milton  must  have  a  pocket." 

Miss  Joanna  sighed,  but  promised  obedience. 

Mr.  Linscott  indulged  in  a  few  deeply  theological  exhor- 
tations, and  then  rose  to  go. 

"  He  didn't  ask  me,"  said  Milton,  regretfully,  as  the  door 
elosed  after  him,  "  about  the  baby  Jesus  that  lay  in  the 


332  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

maiiger,  nor  the  Shepherds,  nor  the  Wise  Men,  nor  none 
of  those  things  that  I  could  have  said  better." 

Miss  Joanna,  herself  not  a  little  heart-sore,  took  him  in 
her  arms,  and  comforted  him,  and  showed  him  the  evening 
star,  and  the  beautiful  golden  sky  of  the  sunset,  and  told 
him  about  the  New  Jerusalem,  with  the  river  flowing 
through  it,  and  the  trees  growing  on  its  banks ;  and  then 
she  undressed  him,  and  heard  him  say  his  evening  prayers, 
and  sat  by  his  side  till  he  went  to  sleep,  watching  for  the 
moon  to  rise. 

Then  she  went  to  her  own  room;  not  to  wrestle  with  an 
old,  dead  grief,  that  would  steep  her  eyes  in  tears  till 
midnight;  but  to  thank  God  for  this  fresh  young  life, 
which  did  so  draw  hers  out  into  the  sunlight,  and  to  ask 
Him  for  grace  and  guidance,  to  meet  all  the  exigencies  of 
its  growth  and  demands;  and  then  to  sleep — sweet,  calm, 
refreshing  sleep. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  333 


XXXII. 

EOSE    COLOB. 

In  those  days  the  lives  of  Rebecca  and  her  lover  flowed 
on  to  a  golden  tune.  This  new  love  was  a  broader  and 
sweeter  experience  than  either  of  them  had  ever  known 
before.  It  renewed  the  cool  fresh  spring-time  of  their 
lives,  and  they  became  young  again  with  the  immortal 
youthfulness  of  love. 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  passionately  fond  of  a  fine  horse. 
Rebecca  rode  well,  also,  and  often,  in  the  cool,  dewy 
evenings  of  the  early  autumn,  they  mounted  their  horses 
and  rode  out  of  the  town  through  the  deep  woods  where 
the  late  sunshine  broke  through  golden-tinted  foliage,  and 
the  air  was  sweet  with  the  breath  of  the  pines,  and  the 
silence  was  stirred  by  the  chatter  of  squirrels  and  the  drop- 
ping of  nuts.  On  again,  over  the  smooth,  open  hills,  with 
God's  beautiful  world  lying  wide  and  varied  at  their  feet; 
winding  streams  and  glint  of  ponds,  and  stretch  of  meadow 
and  fringe  of  woodland,  with  the  soft  autumn  haze  over 
all,  and  the  pearly  rim  of  the  horizon  enclosing  all.  And 
then  the  stars  came  out  and  the  dew  glistened  on  the 
leaves  by  the  roadside,  and  the  dusk  fell  through  the 
great,  wide  spaces,  and  the  darkness  separated  these  two 
trembling  hearts  from  all  the  world  beside.  Or,  there 
were  evening  loiterings  through  the  pine  woods,  or  along 
the  silver  stream-side,  or  bits  of  quiet  chat  under  the  trees 
on  the  lawn,  or  in  the  arbor  which  stood  at  the  foot  of  the 
garden  walk;  all  fragments  of  celestial  light  and  beauty  to 
be  hidden  away  in  their  hearts ;  secretly  treasured,  like 
pearls  in  a  mine,  fit  to  light  up  hereafter  all  dull  and  dark 
experiences.  This  chat  of  lovers,  so  unspeakably  tender 


384  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

and  precious  to  themselves,  so  commonplace  to  all  the 
world  beside;  these  delicate  revealings  of  the  heart,  so 
momentous  to  each  other,  so  little  significant  outside  that 
range  of  intimate  interests  which  they  are  building  up,  a 
temple  for  their  souls  alone  to  abide  in  for  a  lifetime,  who 
shall  transcribe  it.  The  bloom  on  the  plum,  the  spray  from 
the  waterfall,  the  changing  form  of  sunset  clouds,  are  not 
more  exquisite  or  more  intangible. 

Rebecca  sat  in  the  library  one  evening,  when  Mr.  Glad- 
stone was  announced.  Her  dress,  some  silvery  poplin, 
shot  with  azure  hues,  with  a  delicate  lace  collar  pinned 
with  a  cross  of  pearls — her  lover's  gift — had  been 
arranged  purposely  to  please  his  eye;  for  Mr.  Gladstone 
was  fastidious,  she  had  learned,  and  she  took  a  womanly 
pleasure  in  giving  him  the  simple,  yet  ever  new  delight  of 
a  fresh  toilet.  Reclining  in  an  easy  library  chair,  with 
the  late  sunshine  resting  goldenly  upon  her  hair,  and  a 
book  of  poems  in  her  hand,  her  delicate  white  hand  on 
which  his  ring  glistened,  Mr.  Gladstone  felt,  as  he  looked 
at  her,  a  sweetness  in  the  sense  of  ownership  which  he 
had  scarcely  ever  felt  before. 

"So  exquisite,  and — mine,"  was  his  secret  thought. 

"Don't  rise,  Reba,"  he  said,  "you  look  so  sweetly  now, 
just  as  you  sit  there,  that  I  would  not  have  you  lose  the 
position  for  the  world." 

She  looked  up  and  smiled  at  his  fond,  foolish  fancy. 

"May  I  offer  you  this  unoccupied  hand?"  she  said,  "  or 
will  that,  too,  spoil  your  picture?" 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  shall  take  the  hand,"  and  he  drew 
his  chair  beside  her,  so  as  to  sit  very  near,  but  facing  her; 
"that  is  just  what  is  needed  to  the  best  effect.  How  is 
my  little  friend  this  evening?" 

"Very  well,  very  happy,"  she  replied.  "It  sometimes 
seems,  too  happy." 

"  No,  dear,  God  meant  that  people  in  love   should  be 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  335 

happy.  Of  all  his  earthly  gifts,  he  has  put  his  seal  most 
plainly  and  indisputably  on  this  one  of  love." 

"As  if  he  had  made  a  rift  in  Heaven's  walls,  and  let  a 
slant  beam  of  the  glory  down  through.  Having  drawn 
our  eyes  upward,  will  he  not  by  and  by  close  up  the  seam 
and  leave  us  to  our  darkness  again?" 

There  was  a  look  of  trouble  in  her  soft,  child-like  eyes, 
and  Mr.  Gladstone  became  instantly  all  tender  eagerness 
to  allay  it. 

"What  saddens  you  to-night,  my  friend?"  he  said. 
"Tell  me  all  about  it,  and  you  will  feel  better." 

She  smiled.  "Old  memories,  I  think,"  she  said. 
"  Something  in  these  poems  I  have  been  reading,  made 
me  think  of  my  mother  as  I  dimly  remember  her.  She 
was  a  Quakeress  of  wealthy  family,  but  marrying  out  of 
the  society  —  my  father  was  a  Presbyterian  clergyman — 
she  was  estranged  from  all  her  friends.  Three  years  after 
her  marriage,  she  moved  away  from  their  vicinity,  and 
from  that  time  until  the  day  she  died  —  it  was  when  I  was 
five  years  old — she  never  heard  from  them,  except  casually 
in  an  indirect  way.  This  was  the  sadness  of  her  life;  the 
brightness  of  it,  was  the  tender,  mutual  love  which  made 
her  and  her  husband  the  most  quietly  and  deeply  happy 
people  I  ever  knew.  But  when  she  died  it  was  all 
changed.  An  aunt  of  my  father,  a  middle-aged  and  most 
austere  woman,  came  to  live  with  us,  and  all  my  memories 
from  that  time  till  I  was  twenty,  are  chilled  and  saddened 
by  the  asperity  of  that  woman's  life.  My  father,  indeed, 
loved  me  tenderly  and  kept  me  much  with  him.  He 
educated  me ;  I  had  learned  to  read  Latin  and  Greek,  and 
even  listened  intelligently  to  his  reading  of  the  Psalms  in 
Hebrew.  I  remember  so  well  the  deep  melody  and 
beauty  of  the  twenty-third  psalm,  as  I  caught  from  him 
its  under  deeps  of  meaning.  'He  leadeth  me  in  green 
pastures  and  beside  waters  of  stillness,'  always  gave  me, 


336  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

in  the  quaint  Hebrew  words,  a  sense  of  repose,  and  deep 
peacefulness,  that  I  never  caught  from  any  translation. 
He  taught  me  reverence  for  my  mother,  for  her  gentleness, 
her  dignity,  her  tender,  gracious  womanliness,  building 
up  my  very  soul  after  that  saintly  model,  and  showing 
me,  in  a  way  that  I  could  never  forget,  all  that  it  is  to  be 
a  true  woman,  tender  wife,  and  angel  mother.  When  I 
was  sixteen,  he  died.  It  seemed  then  that  all  the  light 
and  beauty  of  my  life  had  gone  out  forever.  Four  years 
moi-e  I  lived  with  that  sour,  stern  woman;  all  that  was 
tenderest  and  most  refined  in  me  chilled,  bruised,  lacer- 
ated daily  by  her  native  angularities  and  her  habitual 
acerbity.  I  think  she  meant  well.  I  think  life  wore  to 
her  just  that  chill,  forbidding  aspect;  and  souls  that  found 
in  it  flowers  and  sunshine,  brightness  and  beauty,  seemed 
to  her  to  be  sporting  upon  the  brink  of  precipices,  with 
fiery  billows  rolling  beneath  them.  To  my  life  with  my 
parents,  I  look  back  with  unutterable  tenderness;  all  that 
came  after — is  bitter — bitter  beyond  telling." 

"Then,  dear,  don't  recall  it.  Don't  dash  with  salt 
and  brackishness  the  pure  cup  of  the  present  happy 
time.  You  looked  so  sweet  and  tranquil  when  I  came  in,  I 
cannot  bear  these  tears  and  this  look  of  pain  upon  your 
face." 

"But,  my  friend,  I  wake  up  in  the  nights  and  feel  guilty 
toward  you ;  and  yet,  when  the  day  comes,  I  can  never, 
never  tell  you." 

"  Yes,  dear,  that  is  just  it.  It  is  in  the  night-time  that 
you  feel  guilty,  not  in  the  pure,  open  day.  It  is  a  morbid 
feeling — about  something  which,  when  years  of  married 
happiness  have  tuned  our  lives  to  perfect  unison,  you  will 
tell,  and  I  shall  hear,  with  a  feeling  as  if  it  belonged  to 
some  far-away  time  and  some  far-away  woman,  and  it 
will  cause  no  pain  to  either ;  but  which  now  would  be  a 
poignant  grief  to  you,  and,  therefore,  a  profound  grief  to 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  387 

me.  Long  ago  you  satisfied  my  heart  in  the  matter.  Let 
us  say,  let  us  think  no  more  about  it." 

What  is  that  strange  power,  is  it  fate,  is  it  God,  which 
so  often  impels  us  to  do  the  very  thing  it  would  seem  we 
ought  not  to  do,  and  that  against  our  own  desires  and 
inclinations?  If  there  was  one  thing  which,  at  some 
moments  of  his  life,  Abraham  Gladstone  desired  to  know 
more  than  all  others,  it  was  just  this  thing  which  he  was 
now  burying  from  his  knowledge.  Something  within  him 
told  him  this  was  best,  and  therefore  he  did  it;  and  so 
doing,  insured,  let  us  believe,  his  after  reward. 

So  cheered  and  encouraged,  Reba  forgot  her  pain. 

"I  have  been  preparing  a  little  surprise  for  you.  You 
never  heard  me  sing,  I  think." 

"Do  you  sing?  I'm  delighted.  Let  me  have  a  taste 
of  your  powers  at  once." 

"I  hadnotsung  for  many  years,"  she  said,  "  and  fancied 
I  had  lost  my  voice  altogether;  but  recently  I  have  been  so 
happy  that  the  old  songs  come  back  to  me,  and  actually 
plead  for  utterance." 

She  led  the  way  into  the  parlor  where  the  piano  stood, 
and  sitting  down  played  a  soft  prelude,  and  then,  while 
he  was  still  wondering  at  the  delicacy  of  her  touch, 
commenced  the  sweet  and  tender  strains  of  an  old 
ballad.  Her  voice  did  not  seem  to  him  wonderful  for 
power  or  brilliancy,  but  possessed  a  rare  and  deep 
pathos,  and  a  truth  and  beauty  of  expression  which 
mere  cultivation  never  bestows.  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
charmed. 

"Why  did  you  never  tell  me  this  before?"  he  asked. 
"Why  has  your  talent  been  left  to  slumber  all  these 
years?" 

"Oh!  the  reason  is  part  of  the  sad  past,"  she  said. 
"When  all  the  bloom  and  sunshine  were  stricken  out  of 
my  life  so  suddenly,  many  gifts  and  graces  were  buried, 
P 


338  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

which  will  find  resurrection  in  the  light  of  your  love. 
Music  in  those  early  days  was  my  one  delight." 

"And  it  is  a  delight  which  you  shall  enjoy  once  more  to 
the  full.  My  mother's  piano  has  stood  unopened  since  her 
death.  Some  happy  day,  please  God,  you  shall  possess 
the  key  of  it,  and  bid  its  harmonics  flow  again.  Oh ! 
Reba,  I  get  very  impatient  for  that  time." 

They  lingered  over  the  piano,  song  following  song,  till 
the  light  faded  and  a  moonbeam  struck  its  white  and 
ghostly  silence  across  the  instrument.  Then  her  hands 
dropped  upon  the  keys,  and  their  talk  wandered  off  to 
other  themes. 

"How  I  shall  miss  you  this  coming  winter,"  he  said. 
"Sometimes,  as  I  think  of  it,  I  am  half  determined  to  carry 
you  off  by  storm,  and  make  you  share  my  exile." 

"And  you  really  expect  to  go  to  Washington  ?  I  have 
hardly  spirit  to  congratulate  you." 

"Yes;  the  nomination,  in  the  present  state  of  party 
affairs,  is  equivalent  to  an  election.  I  am  getting  my 
business  into  proper  shape  to  leave ;  and,  no  doubt,  the 
first  of  December  will  find  me  en  route  for  the  capital." 

"She  was  silent,  pouting  in  a  pretty  way  that  always 
pleased  him,  and  running  her  fingers  absently  over  the 
keys. 

"You  begin  to  grow  distrustful  of  me,"  he  said.  "I 
see  it  in  your  face.  Shall  I  take  a  vow  to  remain  faithful 
to  you  amid  divers  and  many  temptations?" 

"No,"  she  replied;  "the  more  men  multiply  vows,  the 
more  I  believe  they  delight  in  breaking  them.  But,  dear 
friend,  with  so  matiy  excitements,  so  much  all  about  you 
to  dazzle  and  bewilder,  will  your  heart  still  remain  true 
and  steady  to  its  one  love?  Oh!  it  is  so  very,  very  hard 
for  me  to  trust." 

"Dear,  you  may  confide  in  me  to  the  uttermost.  Since 
I  have  seen  my  way  clear  to  marrv,  I  have  ever  had  but 


A  WOMAN  S   SECRET.  339 

one  desire.  Not  fortune,  nor  beauty,  nor  wit,  nor  virtue, 
nor  all  these  combined,  could  tempt  me  for  an  instant,  if 
love  were  wanting.  I  am  more  exacting  than  you  can 
fancy  on  this  score.  And  if  I  marry  for  love,  you  are 
to  remember  I  will  have  love.  There  must  be  no  after 
discoveries  of  hardness  of  heart  or  blindness  of  mind;  no 
frauds  on  the  revenue." 

She  smiled  at  his  eagerness.  "If  you  can  remember," 
she  said,  "  that  a  'woman,  too,  has  her  requirements,  not 
exactly  like  those  of  a  man,  but  equally  exigent,  and  be  as 
willing  to  yield  as  you  are  to  exact,  there  need  be  no 
trouble." 

"  Reba,  I  want  you,  need  you,  every  minute  of  my 
life.  Let  us  be  married  at  once.  I  cannot  leave  you 
behind." 

"Now  you  are  rash.  We  have  both  need  of  patience  ; 
if  you  can  come  back  to  me  from  this  six  months'  absence, 
still  true,  still  infatuated,"  she  said,  looking  up  into  his 
face  with  a  smile,  "  I  shall  have  a  deeper  trust  in  you  than 
is  possible  to  me  now.  For  this,  if  for  no  other  reason,  I 
would  bar  you  from  any  precipitancy." 

"I  suppose  you  are  right;  but,  oh!  my  darling,  the 
excitements  you  talk  about  will  seem  very  tame  after 
these  hours  at  your  side." 

They  stepped  out  under  the  vines,  and  the  stars,  shining 
down  through  the  whispering  foliage,  witnessed  their 
vows  of  mutual  fidelity  and  love.  The  hours  wore  on,  the 
air  grew  soft  with  dews,  the  night  birds  called  from  lonely 
forest  depths,  and  the  breeze  that  whispered  love  to  the 
flowers  outside  brushed  the  soft  tresses  of  her  hair  against 
his  cheek;  but  all  the  weird  enchantments  of  the  night 
were  as  nothing  to  the  magic  which  lay  in  their  hearts; 
and  which  wove  out  of  the  commonplace  facts  of  their 
future,  visions  of  fairy  splendor. 

"  You  have  never  been  to  the  old  home,"  he  said.  "Now, 


340  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

remember,  before  I  go  away  you  are  to  drive  out  there 
some  evening  with  me.  I  want  so  much  to  show  it  to  you 
and  to  consult  your  taste  about  the  refitting.  We  shall 
not  commence  it,  to  be  sure,  till  spring;  but  you  can  be 
thinking  of  it  meanwhile." 

"I  should  like  to  go,"  she  said;  "it  would  be  pleasant  to 
wander  with  you  over  the  scenes  of  your  boyhood.  I 
should  seem  to  know  you  so  much  better  for  knowing 
your  home.  And  that,  it  seems  to  me,  just  now,  is  about 
all  I  have  to  live  for;  to  know  you  deeply  and  well,  and 
to  grow  able  to  please  you,  and  make  your  happiness." 

"That  is  an  odd  speech,"  he  said,  quizzically,  "to  come 
from  a  strong-minded  woman  like  you." 

"It  is  a  great  wonder  to  me,"  she  replied,  "that  you  dare 
to  take  for  better,  for  worse,  a  woman  who  cherishes  the 
strange  notions  which  you  have  so  often  heard  me  avow." 

"  The  truth  is,  Rebecca,  that  I  am  less  afraid  of  a 
woman  who  cherishes  a  high  ideal  of  female  attainments, 
than  of  one  whose  standard  is  set  too  low.  I  think  you 
will  be  more  likely  to  fill  your  life  and  mine  with  inspira- 
tions of  courage,  tenderness  and  truth,  than  if  your  ideal 
were  a  less  noble  one." 

"Which  may  be,  after  all,"  she  said  with  a  smile  of 
confidence  and  love, "  only  your  way  of  subduing  me ;  sinee 
a  woman  is  ever  as  pliant  as  a  reed  in  the  hands  of  the 
man  who  fully  trusts  her,  and  whom  she  can  fully  trust." 

He  bade  her  good  night  then,  and  walked  away,  feeling 
more  than  he  had  expressed  of  the  nobility  and  beauty  of 
the  woman  whom  he  had  left  looking  longingly  after  him, 
through  the  dusk.  Love  has  an  instinctive  comprehension 
of  this  matter  of  the  equality  of  the  sexes.  No  man  in  the 
fervor  of  a  love  dream  ever  felt  or  asserted  any  kind  of 
superiority  over  the  woman  he  loved,  except  a  purely 
material  one;  or  ever  refused  to  her,  her  rightful  due  of 
spiritual  queenship. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  341 


XXXIII. 

THB   EIGHT   OF  A  MAK   TO  WHIP   HIS   WIFE. 

All  through  the  Fall,  Mr.  Gladstone  was  very  much 
occupied  with  preparations  for  his  winter's  absence. 
Beside  that  political  affairs  required  a  great  proportion 
of  his  time,  there  was  much  to  do  to  put  his  personal 
business  in  a  condition  to  leave.  But,  while  Rebecca,  for 
this  cause,  found  herself  deprived  in  a  great  measure  of 
her  lover's  society,  she  was  never  allowed  to  feel  herself 
for  a  moment  neglected.  A  note  of  five  lines  at  one  time, 
a  basket  of  fruit  at  another,  or  even  a  flower  left  on  her 
desk  at  the  office,  reminded  her  pleasantly,  that,  though 
the  head  and  hands  were  engrossed  with  cares,  the  heart 
still,  through  it  all,  preserved  a  tender  thought  for  her. 
Thus,  instead  of  his  business  working  estrangement 
between  them,  it  became  actually  the  means  of  knitting 
their  hearts  in  closer  bonds;  for,  though  these  little 
offices,  in  a  purely  practical  view,  seemed  trifling  and 
insignificant,  they  were  tenderer  proofs  than  the  most 
uninterrupted  devotion  during  hours  of  leisure,  of  the 
fidelity  of  his  attachment.  Because  of  the  fineness  of  a 
woman's  nature,  these  delicacies  and  refinements  of  love 
are  vital  to  her;  and  many  a  woman  has  perished — gone 
down  to  an  untimely  grave,  for  the  want  of  them.  Many 
another  has  drooped  all  her  lifetime,  like  a  blighted  bud 
upon  its  stem,  folding  from  bleak  and  chilling  skies  or 
withering  winds  of  sensualism,  her  tenderest  graces  in 
perpetual  concealment ;  who,  to  sunny  warmth,  and  free 
caressing  breezes,  would  have  yielded,  how  joyfully,  her 
innermost  charm. 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  one  of  the  few  men  who  instinctively 


342  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

appreciate  these  things,  and  there  was  no  danger  of  Reba 
suffering  from  neglect.  But  it  happened  in  this  wise,  that 
the  visit  which  he  had  planned  to  the  old  mansion,  was 
postponed  to  the  last  week  before  his  departure. 

One  evening,  late  in  November,  however,  he  drove  to 
the  door,  to  fulfill  that  long  delayed  intention.  Rebecca 
soon  made  her  appearance,  looking,  in  her  bright  Fall  out- 
door suit,  so  cheerful  and  sparkling,  that  Mr.  Gladstone's 
eye  lingered  upon  her  face  with  a  warmth  that  was  a  caress 
in  itself. 

"  Every  time  I  see  you,"  he  said,  "  I  feel  less  inclined 
for  this  long  absence  from  you.  Reba,  if  anything  should 
happen  to  either  of  us,  during  our  separation — " 

"Now,  my  friend,"  she  interrupted  him,  "  do  not  croak. 
I  feel  so  joyful  to-day,  so  trustful  of  the  future,  that  I 
would  not,  by  any  means,  have  you  disturb  my  perfect 
serenity.  The  birds  sing,  taking  no  thought  for  the 
morrow.  Why  should  not  we?" 

Mr.  Gladstone  gladly  acquiesced.  "In  truth,"  he  said, 
"I  feel  lighter  hearted  to-day  than  I  have  for  many  weeks. 
All  my  preparations  for  leaving  are  made ;  there  is  nothing 
left  now  to  do,  but  to  lay  ever  so  many  injunctions  upon 
you,  concerning  your  future  peace,  and  mine ;  and  that  I 
propose  to  do  at  my  leisure,  during  this  long  visit  which 
we  are  to  enjoy  together." 

She  smiled  in  reply,  and  they  stepped  out  to  the  carriage. 

When  Rebecca  was  seated,  Mr.  Gladstone  proceeded  to 
release  his  horse  from  the  hitching-post.  It  was  a  favorite 
animal,  of  fine  blood,  which  he  had  broken  himself,  and 
named  Queen  Mary,  after  the  Scottish  heroine. 

"Look  at  her,  Reba,"  he  said;  "isn't  she  a  beauty,  and 
doesn't  she  know  her  master?  See  how  proudly  she  arches 
her  neck !  See  how  fondly  she  turns  her  eye  upon  me  ! 
I  broke  her  after  the  Rarey  method.  She  has  never  felt 
the  lash  upon  her  pretty  hide;  she  has  never  heard  an 


A  WOMAN  S    SECRET.  34U 

angry  tone  in  her  master's  voice,  and  she  loves  me  almost 
like  a  human  thing." 

At  this,  the  high-bred,  delicate  creature,  laid  her  nose 
upon  his  shoulder,  and,  as  if  to  confirm  his  words,  gave  a 
soft  whinny  of  delight. 

He  looked  up  at  Rebecca,  and  she  was  smiling  mischiev- 
ously at  him. 

"  It  is  my  equine  enthusiasm,"  he  said,  "  which  amuses 
you?" 

"Not  at  all,"  she  replied.  "I  was  only  thinking  what  a 
curious  reflection  upon  human  nature  it  is,  that  the  most 
distinct  echo  in  our  times,  of  the  Great  Apostle's  doctrine 
concerning  love  as  the  foundation  of  all  real  subjugation, 
should  illustrate  the  truth  by  an  appeal  to — horses." 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  silent  for  a  moment,  as  if  deliberately 
viewing  the  matter  in  this  new  light.  At  last  he  said : 

"  I  am  not  a  theologian,  but  if  I  were,  I  think  I  should 
resent  that  speech  as  an  imputation  upon  the  Church." 

"  The  policy  of  the  Church,  toward  heretics,  for  more 
than  a  thousand  years,"  said  Rebecca,  "  was  to  slay,  burn, 
exterminate.  Later,  the  church  militant  contents  herself 
with  denunciation  and  threatenings.  The  Quakers,  to  be 
sure,  asserted  the  principle,  two  or  three  centuries  ago,  but 
they  could  not  live  by  it,  and  are  slowly  dying  out.  In 
this  generation,  Mr.  Rarey  stands  the  sole  and  single 
reviver  of  the  neglected  truth,  that  pure,  unvarying  kind- 
ness is  the  higher  law  of  subjugation." 

"  But,  Reba,  Mr.  Rarey' s  method  includes  positive  force." 

"  Yes,  but  it  must  be  administered  without  harshness." 

"  The  truth  is,  there  are  very  few  men  who  can  practice 
the  Rarey  method,  because  so  few  are  capable  of  the 
necessary  self-control.  That  is  the  man's  great  miracle, 
after  all." 

"Yet,  judging  from  his  slight  physique,  and  delicate, 
almost  feminine  organization,  the  power  is  not  that  of 


344  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

physical  force,  or  of  the  will,  but  rather  of  a  spirit  so 
large,  so  loving,  so  tender,  for  the  dear  object  of  his 
enthusiasm,  that,  however  the  noble  brute  may  rebel,  it 
causes  him  no  anger,  but  only  pity.  It  is  love,  after  all, 
which  is  the  overmastering  power,  enabling  him  to  con- 
quer, first  himself,  and  then  his  horse." 

"I  begin  to  suspect,  my  little  friend,"  said  Mr.  Glad- 
stone, dryly,  "that  you  have  a  private  interest  in  this 
discussion.  But  you  must  remember  that  the  right  of  a 
man  to  whip  his  wife  is  very  ancient,  and  one  which  no  man 
will  be  in  haste  to  renounce." 

Reba  laughed.  "  But  it  seems,"  she  said,  "  that  you  have 
already  renounced  the  right  to  whip  your  horse.  Let  us 
be  thankful  for  that.  It  is  a  step  in  the  right  direction." 

"Ah!  but  Queen  is  very  submissive  without  the  whip." 

"Less  fractious  by  nature  than  most  women,  you 
probably  believe." 

"No;  she  is  a  fiery,  mettlesome  thing,  else  I  should  not 
like  her  so  well.  But  she  yields  all  her  superior  strength, 
and  mettle,  and  fire,  to  my  service  for  the  pure  sake  of 
love,  and  a  little  gentle  coercion  which  I  practiced  upon 
her  in  the  early  days  of  our  acquaintance.  You  must  not 
ask  me  to  forget  that  fact,  Reba." 

"Since  you  insist  on  making  the  application,  I  will 
confess  that  I  do  not  care  that  you  should  forget  it.  It  is 
undoubtedly  the  duty  of  woman,  as  it  is  her  nature,  to 
yield  implicit  trust;  but  it  is  equally  the  man's  duty,  and 
as  he  becomes  more  enlightened  he  will  see  that  it  is  also 
for  his  best  interest,  never  to  betray  that  trust." 

"Oh!  since  you  yield  without  coercion,  you  spare  me 
the  need  of  the  whip;  but  what  has  become  of  your 
strong-mindedness  ?" 

"Let  us  be  serious,"  she  said.  "A  man  is  certainly  the 
responsible  head  and  representative  of  the  family,  and 
may,  therefore,  for  all  purposes  of  mutual  use  and  benefit, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  845 

require  obedience.  If  there  were  still  any  doubt,  nature 
has  settled  it  emphatically  by  giving  to  him  a  prepon- 
derance of  will  power.  It  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  the 
weaker  can  or  was  intended  to  command  the  stronger. 
Yet,  I  cannot  but  feel  that  there  is  a  kind  of  submission 
which  is  not  incompatible  with  the  highest  freedom.  As 
the  citizen  is  subject  to  the  law,  and  yet  is  only  truly  free 
under  the  law;  so  I  think  a  woman  may,  during  a  whole 
life-time,  yield  a  true  and  just  obedience  to  her  husband, 
and  yet  never  feel  her  rights  invaded,  nor  her  conscience 
profaned.  But,  then,  the  man  must  be  a  man,  and  not  a 
tyrant ;  not  even  addicted  to  that  inherent  vice  of  weak 
and  narrow  minds — the  inclination  to  exact  all  possible 
rights,  without  yielding  the  corresponding  duties." 

"Reba,  have  you  any  fear  that  your  rights  will  ever  be 
invaded,  or  your  conscience  profaned?" 

"No,"  she  said.  "I  trust  you  perfectly.  Yet,  I  think 
you  must  see  for  yourself,  that  many  women  do  so  suffer." 

"  But  that  is  the  fault  of  the  individual  and  not  of  the 
institution.  In  this,  more  than  in  any  other  way,  it  seems 
to  me  that  I  can  trace  the  Divine  agency  in  the  ordering 
of  the  world's  affairs.  The  primitive  institutions  of  the 
race  are  all  good  and  true.  The  Family,  the  State,  the 
Church,  who  but  God  could  have  ordained  them?  The 
reforms  which  are  needed  must  be  directed  toward  the 
heart  of  man,  to  bring  it  up  to  the  level  of  those  grand 
ideas  which  have  their  source  in  the  bosom  of  God.  They 
were  fitted  to  man  in  the  infancy  of  the  race,  and  he  may 
progress  fur  ages  and  never  outgrow  them ;  though,  age 
by  age,  his  vision  grows  clearer  and  his  heart  purer,  to 
appreciate  them." 

They  had  left  the  town  behind  them,  and  were  driving 
through  open  fields.  The  landscape  drawn  in  the  soft 
tints  of  the  Indian  summer,  and  vailed  by  its  delicate 
haze,  was  one  to  charm  the  eye  and  touch  the  heart.  The 


346  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

pastures  were  sere  and  yellow,  but  along  the  old  gray 
walls  the  golden  asters  still  faintly  nodded.  The  trees 
bore  only  a  scant  and  fluttering  foliage,  which  yet 
displayed  some  trace  of  the  October  splendor;  the 
brooks,  threading  the  fresher  meadows,  reflected  the  pale 
azure  and  paler  gold  of  the  tender  sky,  softened  from  its 
summer  brilliancy,  to  an  aspect  more  accordant  with  the 
waning  fortunes  of  the  year.  Already  the  wide-spread 
acres  of  the  Gladstone  estate  were  in  view.  Already  the 
great  square  chimneys  of  the  old  house  rose  in  sight 
among  the  trees. 

"Reba,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "you  cannot  imagine  the 
pride  and  joy  of  my  heart,  as  1  look  on  these  dear  old 
acres  and  think  that  they  are  safe  again  in  my  possession. 
If  I  had  never  been  so  near  losing  them,  I  should  never 
have  known  how  much  I  loved  them." 

"  Your  fortune  has  been  very  singular  in  that  respect,  I 
think,"  said  Rebecca.  "I  never  quite  understood  how  so 
strange  a  combination  of  circumstances  took  its  rise." 

"It  is  a  long  story  to  tell,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone.  "In 
fact,  I  am  still  a  little  puzzled  about  it  myself.  At  times 
I  have  had  my  suspicions  that  there  must  have  been  some 
unfair  influence  brought  to  bear  upon  my  father ;  or,  worse, 
some  tampering  with  his  actual  intentions.  But  I  have  no 
proof  of  anything  of  that  kind,  which  would  avail  me 
in  a  legal  way;  therefore,  I  content  myself  with  letting 
the  matter  rest.  The  trial  has  been  a  severe  one;  but, 
now  that  it  is  over,  I  would  not  have  escaped  it.  Life,  and 
all  that  it  holds  for  me,  are  ten  times  dearer  than  they 
could  have  been  if  I  had  not  so  struggled  for  my  hold 
upon  them.  I,  myself,  am  the  stronger,  better,  purer  man 
for  the  hard  work  which  this  experience  has  entailed  upon 
me.  If  my  brother  Dick  ever  wronged  me,  I  freely  forgive 
him ;  if  not  for  his  own  sake,  yet  for  the  sake  of  this 
indirect  good  which  I  have  gained,  and  for  that  deeper 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  347 

interest,  our  common  mother.  By  the  way,"  he  said,  "  I 
had  a  letter  from  him  the  other  day,  and  he  is  coming 
home  soon." 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  you  have  seen  him,  is  it  not?" 
said  Rebecca,  in  an  absent,  meditative  way;  less  interested 
in  what  she  was  saying  than  in  her  under  thought  of  the 
grandness  and  purity  of  this  man's  life,  and  the  pride  she 
had  in  it  already  as  a  part  of  her  own. 

"Yes,  he  has  not  been  in  Wyndham  for  eight  years, 
although  it  is  only  about  five  years  since  he  went  to  South 
America.  I  fancy,  from  his  letter,  that  he  has  not  been  so 
successful  as  he  expected  to  be,  and  intends  to  return  to 
his  old  home  to  settle  for  life.  Well,  we  will  give  him  a 
welcome;  and  so  long  as  he  shows  a  man's  front  to  the 
world,  he  will  have  a  man's  place  in  it,  whether  he  be  rich 
or  poor.  A  fine-looking  man,  is  Dick." 

"Does  he  look  like  you  ?" 

"Not  at  all.  I  am  fair,  but  he  is  dark,  with  a  natural 
polish  and  princeliness  of  bearing  which  I  should  never 
acquire.  But  he  has,  or  used  to  have,  a  bad  heart,  Reba. 
I  cannot  promise  that  you  will  like  him  for  a  brother." 

"When  will  he  arrive?"  asked  Reba. 

"It  is  not  quite  certain.  He  may  be  here  by  Christmas. 
He  speaks  of  renewing  the  old  festivities  in  that  case. 
Of  course  he  does  not  know  that  I  shall  not  be  here  then ; 
or  he  may  not  come  till  spring.  I  should  judge,  by  what 
he  says,  that  he  will  not  delay  longer  than  that." 

They  had  reached  the  gate,  where  the  farmer  stood 
ready  to  admit  them,  having  already  opened  the  house 
and  left  his  wife  in  charge  of  it,  till  the  arrival  of  its 
owner.  As  they  drove  up  the  wide,  handsome  avenue, 
Mr.  Gladstone  took  great  pleasure  in  directing  Rebecca's 
attention  to  his  favorite  points  in  the  ground,  and  dis- 
cussing with  her  the  improvements  which  he  already 
contemplated. 


348  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"It  will  be  some  years  yet  before  I  can  carry  my  plans 
into  execution;  for,  besides  the  farm,  I  have  nothing  to 
depend  upon  but  my  own  exertions,  which  makes  me,  as 
compared  with  my  lather,  a  poor  man;  but,  with  industry 
and  good  management,  the  day  will  come  when  I  can 
realize  all  these  dreams,  and  leave  the  old  place,  when  I 
die,  in  better  order  than  I  found  it." 

The  house  itself  had,  of  course,  the  dreary  look  which 
an  uninhabited  building  is  sure  to  gather.  There  were 
the  inevitable  dust  and  cobwebs,  the  darkness  and  the 
smell  of  damp  and  mould;  but,  as  the  shutters  were  taken 
down,  revealing  the  handsome  walls,  and  wide,  fine 
windows,  and  heavy,  antique  furniture  of  the  rooms, 
Rebecca  felt  that  only  sunshine  and  good  cheer  were 
needed  to  make  it,  not  only  a  spacious  and  elegant,  but  a 
cosey  and  comfortable  home. 

They  wandered  about  the  house  for  an  hour,  Mr.  Glad- 
stone eloquent  all  the  while  with  old  memories.  This  was 
his  mother's  favorite  rocking-chair;  these  her  best  loved 
books.  In  this  room  his  father  died.  This  other  had 
been  his  own  room  since  he  could  remember,  and  this  his 
brother  Dick's.  Dick  was  such  a  handsome  fellow,  so 
grand  in  his  manners,  courteous  to  his  equals,  but  haughty 
and  domineering  toward  his  inferiors.  Men,  unless  they 
were  quite  of  his  own  stamp,  seldom  liked  him;  but  the 
women  adored  him. 

"I  suppose,"  he  said,  half  joking,  half  in  earnest,  "there 
is  no  end  to  the  hearts  he  has  broken." 

And  so  he  went  on,  with  the  abandon  of  a  generous 
heart,  calling  up  old  and  tender  associations. 

Stopping  for  a  moment  in  a  chamber,  Mr.  Gladstone 
said: 

"  Wait  for  a  moment,  Reba,  while  I  look  in  this  trunk 
for  my  opera  glass.  It  has  been  packed  away  since  I  left 
the  small  house,  and  I  may  want  it  this  winter." 


A  WOMAN  S   SECRET.  6W 

He  knelt,  and  selecting  a  key  from  the  bunch  he  carried, 
unlocked  the  trunk  and  commenced  removing  its  contents. 

The  first  thing  brought  to  view  was  a  blue  silk  dress. 
He  grew  grave,  and  was  about  to  lay  it  silently  aside, 
when,  from  some  awkwardness  of  handling,  the  folds  fell 
apart,  and  discovered  great  yellow  stains  of  dampness. 

"This  isn't  keeping  well,  is  it?"  he  said.  "Perhaps  I'd 
better  shake  it  out,  and  hang  it  in  a  closet." 

As  he  did  so,  the  ruin  of  it  became  more  evident.  The 
beautiful  luster  of  the  silk  was  faded.  There  was  not  a 
breadth  of  it  that  was  not  discolored  and  moulded,  and 
the  lace  flounce,  the  one  pride  and  treasure  of  Melissa's 
heart,  was  eaten  to  holes  by  the  mice.  It  was  a  sad 
reminiscence,  and  the  pathos  of  it  was  all  the  deeper, 
because  it  was  so  true  a  token  of  poor  Melissa's  life  and 
memory. 

There  was  not  a  word  spoken  as  the  ruined,  faded  thing 
was  hung  away ;  but  a  chill  pervaded  Mr.  Gladstone's 
heart,  which  only  a  glance  into  Rebecca's  pure,  love- 
lighted  face  could  wholly  dispel. 

The  opera  glass  being  found,  they  retraced  their  steps 
to  the  drawing-room. 

"I  am  going  to  leave  you  here  for  a  few  moments, 
Reba,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  "  while  I  go  up  stairs  to  look 
for  some  old  letters  which  are  stowed  away  there.  I  shall 
only  be  gone  a  short  time,  and  then  we  will  set  out  for 
home.  The  moon  is  coming  up  gloriously,  and  we  shall 
have  a  fine  drive." 

Rebecca,  left  alone,  seated  herself  in  a  great  reception 
chair,  and  commenced,  in  an  idle  way,  studying  the  furni- 
ture of  the  room.  It  was  quaint  and  old  fashioned,  but 
still  handsome.  What  most  attracted  her,  were  the  por- 
traits upon  the  walls,  done  in  oil,  and  with  very  creditable 
artistic  skill.  The  one  opposite  the  bay  window,  she 
knew  in  a  moment  was  that  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  mother. 


350  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

It  was  a  face  of  rare  delicacy,  yet  not  wanting  in  strength; 
the  contour  high  and  open,  the  features  regular;  the  hair, 
which  was  dark  and  softly  waving,  and  the  exquisite  skin, 
expressing,  more  than  anything  else,  the  fineness  of  the 
organization.  The  expression  was  of  perfect  gentleness, 
touched  with  a  sadness  so  tender  and  patient,  that  the 
heart  of  the  beholder  thrilled  with  an  instinctive  sympathy 
and  reverence. 

"Ah!"  was  Reba's  thought,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears, 
"she  would  have  understood  me,  would  have  forgiven 
me,  would  have  loved  me;"  and  as  she  looked  longer,  it 
seemed  to  her  that  from  the  very  canvas  floated  down  a 
blessing  and  a  caress. 

The  portrait  of  Mr.  Gladstone  the  elder,  hung  there 
also;  the  face  of  a  generous,  open-hearted,  yet  upright 
man. 

"Just  the  face  I  should  have  looked  to  see,  from  all  I 
have  heard  of  him,"  she  thought;  "tender,  large-hearted, 
strictly  conscientious.  How  could  it  have  happened  that 
he  should  have  made  so  unjust  a  disposition  of  his  prop- 
erty? I  do  not  wonder  that  the  feeling  is  so  strong  in  the 
community  against  the  half-brother.  There  must  have 
been  some  undue  influence  used,  which  it  is  very  noble 
of  Mr.  Gladstone  to  forgive  so  freely." 

There  was  simply  a  head  of  Abraham  in  his  teens; 
a  bold,  free,  spirited  drawing,  which  amused  while  it 
delighted  her.  It  seemed  so  strange  to  see  the  boyish 
look  on  those  grave,  settled  features  which  she  knew  so 
well.  After  a  short  inspection  of  it,  she  returned  to  her 
seat;  and  returned,  also,  to  her  idle  examination  of  the 
details  of  the  room.  Presently,  in  one  corner,  upon  the 
floor,  she  espied  another  painting,  the  face  turned  toward 
the  wall;  but  on  the  canvas  she  read,  "A  portrait  of  R 
P.  Clavering,"  with  the  date  and  the  artist's  initials.  At 
the  sight  of  that  name,  the  color  forsook  her  cheek  and 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  351 

lip,  and  an  uncontrollable  emotion  seized  her.  She  sat  for 
a  moment  powerless,  the  description  which  Mr.  Gladstone 
had  that  hour  given  her  of  his  brother  flashing  across  her 
brain.  The  next  moment  there  came  a  revulsion  of 
feeling.  It  was  no  time  now,  she  felt,  for  shrinking  or 
uncertainty.  Cost  what  it  would,  she  must  go  forward 
and  look  at  that  hidden  face.  She  rose  and  walked  across 
the  room,  and  bringing  the  picture  out  into  a  strong  light, 
turned  it  toward  her. 

It  was  as  if  one  had  risen  from  the  dead,  to  confront  her 
with  the  memory  of  the  bitter  past. 

The  sun  was  just  setting,  and  a  flood  of  light  poured  in 
at  a  western  window.  Selecting  a  good  position  for  the 
portrait,  she  placed  it  there,  and  then  sat  down  upon  the 
floor  before  it.  She  was  lost  utterly  to  the  present.  She 
was  living  over  again,  in  her  memory,  the  unspeakable 
agony  of  the  past.  The  face  she  looked  upon  was  younger 
than  she  had  known  it.  There  was  a  fresher  glow  upon 
it;  a  nobler  enthusiasm ;  but  the  dark  eyes  glowed  with 
the  same  deep  fires;  the  strong  lip  swelled  with  the  sanu 
firm  purpose  j  the  luxuriant  hair  curled  with  a  foreshadow 
ing  of  the  same  rich  grace  ;  there  was,  over  all,  the  same 
expression  of  princely  will,  and  power  to  do,  without 
endeavor. 

She  sat  there  till  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  shadows 
deepened  around  her ;  her  eyes  still  fixed  upon  that  hand- 
gome,  fascinating  face,  something  of  the  old  magnetism 
drawing  her  out  of  herself,  toward  the  scenes  which  they 
two  had  loitered  through  together.  She  knew,  now,  how 
heartless  he  was;  how  hollow  his  vows  had  been!  there 
was  no  loving — only  loathing  in  her  heart  for  him;  but 
the  power  he  had  wielded  over  her  fate  and  fortunes,  ah! 
she  could  not  forget  that. 

Suddenly,  the  shutting  of  a  door,  in  a  distant  part  of  the 
house,  recalled  her  to  herself,  and  to  the  present  time  and 


352  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

place.  Recalled  her  with  a  shiver  of  agony  and  fear. 
How  should  she  meet  that  noble,  generous  man,  whose 
footsteps,  even  now,  were  bringing  him  momently  nearer 
her.  Should  she  reveal  this  new  discovery,  or  should  she 
hide  it  in  her  own  bosom.  That  she  must  give  him  up, 
utterly,  entirely;  erase  with  unflinching  hand  all  the  lines 
which  he  had  drawn  so  deeply,  so  lovingly  upon  her  heart 
—  that  she  had  felt  from  the  first  instant.  But  should  she 
tell  him  the  reason  why  ? 

"No,"  she  said,  with  that  womanly  strength  which  is 
stronger  than  the  strength  of  men ;  "  the  pit  which  this 
man  digs  ever  beneath  my  feet,  I  will  go  down  into  alone. 
They  two  are  brothers.  That  saint  up  yonder  has  an  equal 
interest  in  them  both.  No  doubt  her  heart  yearns  even 
more  tenderly  over  the  erring,  the  prodigal  one,  than  over 
him  who  has  kept  always  the  right  path.  No  man  is 
supreme  over  my  fate.  Only  God,  my  Father,  has  ordered 
it  all.  To  Him  alone  let  me  carry  my  heavy  burden." 

She  rose,  put  back  the  portrait,  and  turned  to  meet  her 
lover. 

"I  have  kept  you  longer  than  I  intended,"  he  said;  "it 
is  late  ;  are  you  weary  of  waiting?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  quietly.  "  I  have  been  looking  at 
your  mother's  face.  I  should  have  loved  her.  But  we 
must  not  linger  now — we  must  go  at  once." 

He  closed  the  door,  and  gave  the  key  into  the  hands  of 
the  man  who  was  waiting  outside,  and  then,  assisting  her 
to  enter  the  carriage,  they  started  off.  Rebecca  felt  that 
it  was  the  last  ride  which  they  should  ever  take  together, 
and  she  was  very  silent,  very  sad.  Only  long  years  of 
the  patient  practice  of  self-control  could  have  given  her 
strength  to  conceal  her  preoccupation  from  him.  He,  too, 
seemed  quieter  than  usual,  perhaps  because  the  tender, 
haunting  memories  which  the  evening's  experiences  had 
evoked,  were  not  yet  laid  in  their  accustomed  graves;  and 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  353 

the  landscape,  washed  clear  of  color  by  the  flood  of  moon- 
light which  overflowed  it,  and  lying  one  wide,  varied  study 
of  pure  light  and  shadow,  was  not  more  subdued  in  tone 
than  their  manner  toward  each  other  during  that  home- 
ward drive.  Mr.  Gladstone  remembered  it  afterwards, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if,  even  then,  he  might  have 
known  that  a  great  gulf  had  suddenly  hollowed  itself  out 
between  them,  out  of  which  blew  wind  that  was  like  that 
which  blows  from  a  place  of  graves. 

One  question  she  asked  him ;  one  request  of  his  was 
graven  deeply  upon  her  heart. 

"You  spoke  of  your  brother,"  she  said;  "what  is  his 
true  name  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Richard  Peyton  Clavering,  though  he  was 
so  constantly  called  Dick  Gladstone,  that  even  the  old 
residents  of  the  town  scarcely  remember  that  he  had  any 
other  patronymic." 

"  Which  accounts,"  said  Rebecca,  "for  my  never  having 
heard  it." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then  Mr.  Gladstone 
said,  earnestly  and  gravely : 

"Reba,  you  are  my  good  angel,  now.  If  ever  you  hear 
me  speak  unkindly  or  unforgivingly  of  this  man,  will  you 
not  remind  me  that  he  is  my  mother's  son?" 

The  appeal  struck  deeper  than  he  knew ;  but  it  did  not 
sound  the  depths  of  that  strong  and  tender  heart. 

"  I  will,"  she  said.  "God  forbid  that  ever  I  should  place 
dissension  or  bitterness  between  you  two." 

Her  course  lay  plain  before  her  then,  traced  by  the  hand 
of  her  Father  Himself.  Oh !  could  she  walk  it  steadily, 
and  without  faltering,  to  the  end?  They  went  each  to 
their  homes.  He  to  a  quiet,  dreamless  sleep;  she  to  a 
storm-tossed  vigil. 

What  memories  she  struggled  with  that  night,  what 
temptations,  what  weaknesses,  only  her  Father  knew, 
P2 


354  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

What  angels  visited  her,   strength  from  what  fountains 
was  poured  into  her  fainting  heart,  He  also  knew. 

When  the  morning  came,  she  had  resolutely  broken 
every  tie  which  bound  her  heart  to  her  lover's.  The  only 
thing  she  leaned  on  now,  was  the  Father's  promise  of 
peace.  The  peace  of  God's  acre?  She  knew  not.  So 
broken,  so  humble,  so  weary  was  she,  that  she  scarcely 
cared  to  know. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  355 


XXXIV. 

THE  ARK  OF  THE  LORD  IN  TABERNACLES. 

Ever  since  his  illness  in  the  spring,  Moses  Moss  had 
been  cloudily  revolving  in  his  mind  the  problems  which 
that  occasion  had  suggested.  He  was  past  fifty  now ;  he 
was  nearing  the  bounds  of  his  life ;  the  Hereafter  would 
soon  be  a  present  reality  to  him.  Was  he  prepared  to 
meet  it? 

Very  possibly  these  serious  impressions  might  have 
worn  off  with  his  convalescence,  if  his  patient  and  ener- 
getic wife  had  not  taken  great  pains  to  preserve  and 
deepen  them.  She  had  faithfully  followed  the  doctor's 
advice,  and  by  means  of  persuasions  and  flatteries,  and 
various  feminine  artifices  not  transcribable,  had,  in  a  good 
measure,  won  him  from  his  old  tavern  life,  and  quickened 
his  mind  to  a  new  interest  in  a  higher  order  of  things. 
But  still  she  felt  that  her  work  was  only  begun ;  and  that, 
without  the  seal  upon  it  of  a  Higher  Power,  there  was  no 
surety  but  that,  at  any  moment,  he  might  relapse  into  his 
old  ways,  and  so  all  her  efforts,  and  his  strivings,  go  for 
naught. 

He  went  to  church  with  her  every  Sunday,  now ;  but  it 
seemed  to  him,  and  sometimes  to  her,  that  the  services  of 
God's  house  were  altogether  thrown  away  upon  him.  The 
days  were  long  and  warm ;  the  sermons  were  pitched  to  a 
key  which,  strain  his  mind  as  he  might,  he  could  never 
bring  himself  level  to ;  and  the  result  was,  he  would  go  to 
sleep.  In  fact,  it  was  a  matter  of  congratulation  to  Mrs. 
Moss,  if,  by  means  of  close  watching,  and  sundry  frequent 
nudges,  she  got  him  through  the  service  without  snoring. 
Moses  began  to  be  discouraged. 


356  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  It  ain't  no  use,"  he  said,  "  I  never  did  get  no  good  out 
o'  meetin'-going,  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  it's  worse  now,  if 
anything.  I  don't  believe  I'm  one  of  the  elect." 

But  Mrs.  Moss  had  not  been  drilled  in  patience  all  her 
life,  by  that  turbulent  brood  of  hers,  to  give  up  now. 

"Moses,"  she  said,  "that's  just  a  temptation  of  the  Evil 
One.  It  may  be  meetin'-goin'  ain't  the  thing  you  need. 
God  doesn't  work  by  the  same  means  in  all  cases;  but  if 
we  keep  steady  on  a-tryin',  it  will  come  out  plain  by  and 
by,  what  you  do  need.  I  hav'n't  given  it  up  yet." 

And  Mrs.  Moss  fell  back  upon  that  sure  refuge,  the  way 
to  which  is  deeply  worn  by  the  feet  of  sorrowing,  per- 
plexed, distressed  mothers  —  prayer. 

Toward  autumn,  there  came  rumors  of  a  camp-meeting 
to  be  held  in  the  woods  near  the  town,  in  October.  Then 
Rachel  Moss'  heart  rejoiced. 

That's  the  very  thing  for  Moses,"  she  said.  "I  knew 
God  was  aware  o'  what  he  needed,  and  would  send  it,  if  I 
only  hung  right  on  a-prayin'." 

From  that  day  forward,  Rachel  said  little  about  the 
camp-meeting;  but  all  her  plans  were  silently  shaped  with 
reference  to  it.  The  boys'  new  trousers  were  bought  and 
made ;  Moses'  black  coat  was  put  in  order;  the  fall  cleaning 
was  all  got  out  of  the  way,  and  there  was  an  extra  dollar's 
worth  of  sugar  laid  in  to  make  cookies,  and  an  extra  ham 
bought  to  make  sandwiches,  all  for  camp-meeting. 

"What  is  your  mother  a-drivin'  at  so?"  Moses  inquired 
of  Jane,  one  day.  "Seems  as  if  she  didn't  give  herself 
no  peace,  day  nor  night,  now-a-days." 

"She  wants  to  go  to  camp-meetin',"  said  Jane,  "and  I 
think  you  might  buy  her  a  new  gown.  Mother  hain't  got 
a  bit  of  ambition  about  fixing  herself  up,  though  she'll  do 
for  the  rest  of  us,  till  the  last  breath." 

"Lord,  we  can't  go  to  camp-meetin',  not  to  stay  none," 
said  Moses,  "and  I  dunno  as  I  want  to  go." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  357 

Camp-meeting,  in  Moses'  mind,  was  associated  with 
whiskey,  and  scoffing,  and  many  things  which  just  now  he 
had  a  little  fear  of. 

"  Well,  I  guess  mother  will  go,  and  maybe  you, 
too,"  said  Jane;  "for  I  never  did  see  her  get  set  on 
anything,  just  as  she  is  on  this,  but  what  she  carried  her 
p'int." 

Mrs.  Moss  had  a  brother,  a  small  farmer — a  very  small 
farmer,  living  a  mile  or  two  out  of  the  town.  As  a  matter 
of  course,  he  kept  a  horse  and  wagon;  a  loose-jointed, 
faint-spirited,  rickety  concern,  but  still  able  to  do  duty  as 
a  means  of  transportation.  The  week  before  the  camp- 
meeting,  Mrs.  Moss  went  over  to  brother  Joe's  on  a  visit. 
While  she  was  there,  she  managed  to  get  a  promise  of  the 
use  of  this  beast  of  burden  for  one  day.  Moses  had  his 
weaknesses,  and  would  never,  she  felt  convinced,  walk  to 
camp-meeting. 

It  was  now  well  understood  in  the  family  what  Mrs. 
Moss'  intentions  were;  but  as  the  day  drew  nearer,  Moses 
felt  his- heart  sink  within  him.  It  was  a  great  departure 
from  his  old  course  of  life,  for  him  to  go  to  camp-meeting 
in  any  other  character  than  that  of  a  scoffer  and  a  reveler. 
He  began  to  doubt  whether,  after  all,  the  old  ways  were  not 
good  enough  for  him.  He  had  lived  in  them  all  his  life; 
what  was  the  use  in  changing  now?  The  crosses  and 
renunciations  which  he  had  heard  faint-hearted  Christians 
talk  about,  began  to  loom  up  before  him  with  great 
distinctness,  and  were  full  of  terrors  to  his  weak  soul. 
His  sympathizing  wife  noted  accurately  all  the  changes  in 
his  mind,  and  as  the  expected  time  drew  nearer  and  nearer, 
she  worked  with  a  faith  that  was  almost  desperate. 

On  the  very  day  before  the  meeting  was  to  commence, 
Moses  declared  stoutly  that  he  would  not  go.  Mother 
might  go  if  she  liked,  though  he  didn't  believe  in  women 
tramping  off  to  such  places  by  themselves ;  but,  as  for  him, 


358  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

he  never  did  know  any  good  done  by  camp-meetings,  and 
go  he  wouldn't. 

At  that  moment,  if  poor  Rachel's  soul  had  not  been 
firmly  stayed  on  a  Power  outside  of,  and  beyond  herself; 
if  she  had  not  felt  that  every  fiber  of  strength  in  the 
Omnipotent  arm  was  pledged  to  her  support,  her  courage 
must  have  failed.  Instead  of  that,  she  spent  that  whole 
night  in  prayer.  She  repeated,  over  and  over  again,  the 
good  old  promises  on  which  she  had  leaned  all  her  lifetime, 
and  which  had  never  yet  failed  her.  In  the  morning,  she 
remembered  the  old  negro's  declaration,  "Ef  de  Lord 
tells  me  to  jump  Crough  a  stone  wall,  I'se  gwine  to  jump 
at  it.  Jumpin' at  it  is  my  business;  gwine  t'rough  is  de 
Lord's  business!"  Moses  was  very  sulky  at  breakfast, 
and  spoke  of  his  day's  work  as  though  he  meant  to  go 
about  it  as  usual;  but  she,  when  she  had  cleared  away  the 
table,  put  out  his  Sunday  suit  upon  the  bed,  and  set  one 
of  the  boys  to  black  his  boots.  Then  she  calmly  put  on 
her  own  dress  and  laid  out  her  bonnet  and  shawl. 

"Come,  father,"  she  said,  "it's  time  for  you  to  dress, 
and  I'm  ready  to  put  on  your  collar  for  you." 

It  was  a  desperate  moment.  Rachel  could  distinctly 
count  her  own  heart-beats  during  that  instant  of  hesitation. 
At  last,  Moses  laid  down  his  hammer  and  his  lapstone, 
and-  approached  the  bed-room  door. 

"Seein'  you've  engaged  the  horse,  Rachel,"  said  he, 
"  I'll  drive  you  down  there.  But  I  sha'n't  promise  to  stay 
to  none  o'  the  doin's." 

Rachel  fairly  turned  pale;  but  she  did  not  otherwise 
betray  her  agitation.  How  she  bustled  about,  though,  to 
keep  him  busy  till  the  last  moment,  for  fear  his  courage 
should  fail! 

At  last,  the  old  red  wagon  drove  up  to  the  door,  with  its 
poor,  cadaverous,  resigned  looking  horse.  If  it  had  been 
a  chariot  of  gold,  Mrs.  Moss  could  not  have  felt  happier, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  359 

as  she  mounted  it.  It  was  not  the  triumph  of  success 
which  so  elated  her,  but  of  that  inward  trust  in  God 
which  stayed  her  soul,  and  the  all-sufficiency  of  which 
she  had  again  that  morning  tested.  Just  as  she  went  out 
of  the  door,  she  said  privately  to  Jane,  who  was  to  be 
housekeeper : 

"  If  your  father  and  I  don't  come  back  to-night,  don't 
you  worry;  and  if  we  don't  come  home  all  the  week,  don't 
you  worry.  We  shall  come  back  when  the  right  time 
comes,  and  not  before." 

The  camp-ground  was  a  wild,  secluded  place;  but  lighted 
up  with  the  October  splendor,  it  had  a  glory  of  its  own, 
unsurpassed  by  minster  or  cathedral.  The  platform  had 
been  laid,  the  seats  erected,  and  the  tents  pitched  in  a 
circle  about  them,  on  a  previous  evening,  and  by  midday 
the  few  late  comers  were  properly  domiciled,  and  the 
opening  services  were  commenced.  The  seats  were  well 
filled  with  an  attentive  audience;  up  and  down  the  broad 
promenade  outside,  the  restless  spirits  who  had  come  more 
for  the  novelty  and  excitement  of  the  meeting  than  from 
any  desire  of  spiritual  advancement,  constantly  walked; 
while  from  the  tents  bright  faces  peeped,  of  women  busy 
yet  with  household  duties;  and  from  the  circle  outside  of 
all  arose  a  savory  smell  of  ripe  watermelons  and  boiling 
sweet  corn. 

But  over  all  the  busy  scene,  the  great  trees  spread  their 
solemn  arches,  veined  with  a  tracery  of  foliage  more 
exquisite  than  any  carved  by  mortal  hands  upon  imperish- 
able stone;  the  golden  October  sunshine  streamed  down 
through  splendors  of  coloring,  unrivaled  by  ancient  picto- 
rial windows;  and  the  cool,  sweet  breath  of  the  woodlands, 
and  the  aromatic  incense  which  mother  earth  sent  up  to 
greet  her  children  who  had  thus  cast  themselves  upon  her 
bosom,  were  a  sweet  smelling  savor  prepared  by  the  hand 
of  the  great  High  Priest  himself. 


360  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

There  seem  to  be  some  souls  whose  religious  feelings 
are  so  enveloped  by  the  husks  and  swaddling  bands  of 
aii  embryotic  state,  that  only  some  sudden  flood-tide  of 
emotion,  some  resistless  torrent  of  appeal,  can  penetrate  to 
the  germ  and  set  the  tide  of  life  in  motion.  Such  a  soul  was 
that  of  Moses  Moss.  The  church,  with  its  solemn  services 
and  spiritual  exhortations,  was  powerless  upon  him;  but 
out  here  in  the  woods  there  was  a  novelty  and  excitement 
of  religious  life  which  impressed  him  deeply.  Prayer 
seemed  to  his  materialized  vision  to  have  a  clearer  road  to 
heaven  up  through  these  trees,  than  when  it  ascended 
from  the  church  pulpit.  The  hymns,  too,  so  full  of  rousing 
life  and  energy,  sung  by  the  whole  vast  crowd,  sinners  as 
well  as  saints  catching  the  inspiration  and  swelling  the 
full-voiced  chorus,  seemed  to  him  a  different  and  far  more 
spiritual  thing  than  the  trained  performances  of  the  village 
choir.  Somehow,  sitting  among  those  fervent  worshipers, 
he  caught,  before  he  knew  it,  the  spirit  of  their  devotions, 
and  began  to  feel  a  bursting  and  a  riving  of  the  bonds  of 
his  soul,  such  as  he  had  never  expei'ienced  before.  At  first 
the  sensation  was  deeply  painful,  but  that  was  the  true 
sign,  after  all,  that  the  soul  was  really  quickened  and 
struggling  to  outgrow  its  old  cerements  of  materialism. 

The  sermon  that  morning  chanced  to  be  from  the  text, 
"Ye  must  be  born  again,"  and  the  speaker  pointed  his 
discourse  with  an  illustration  drawn  from  the  forest  around 
him.  "These  acorns  which  you  see  hanging  from  the 
boughs,"  he  said,  "are  waiting  for  the  frosts  to  ripen  them, 
till  they  shall  drop  from  the  tree  to  the  lap  of  the  earth, 
perfected  acorns.  That  will  be  their  first  birth.  So  you, 
my  friends,  were  launched  from  the  parent  being,  out  upon 
this  material  life.  But  the  acorn  is  not  an  acorn  simply; 
it  holds  within  it  the  germ  of  the  future  oak,  which,  if  the 
earth  receives  it  into  her  bosom,  and  the  sunlight  warms 
it,  and  the  rain  swells  it  to  the  bursting  of  its  compact, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  361 

material  shell,  shall  grow  and  thrive,  and  as  the  years 
pass  on,  add  to  the  forest  another  tree,  to  this  great 
beautiful  temple  of  God,  another  pillar.  That  is  its 
second  birth. 

"So  you,  my  friends,  hold  within  your  souls  the  still 
latent  capacity,  it  may  be,  but  'still  the  capacity,  to  be  an 
angel.  You  are  not  the  child  of  fate  or  chance,  as  the 
acorn  is,  but  a  free  agent  in  God's  moral  world.  You 
may  hug  close  your  material  shell  if  you  choose,  and  shut 
out  the  sunlight  of  God's  word,  and  the  rain  of  His  mercy, 
and"  so  fail  of  your  natural  development;  or  you  may  open 
your  hearts  this  day  to  the  influence  of  his  gracious  Spirit, 
and  receive  the  spiritual  quickening  which  you  need,  and 
begin  to  let  that  soul  of  yours  out  of  its  long,  blind,  blank 
imprisonment." 

Now,  Moses  could  understand  this,  and  see  a  truth  and  a 
beauty  in  it,  which  the  doctrine  of  regeneration,  as  he  had 
heard  it  preached  before,  had  utterly  lacked  to  his  vision. 

"Why,  that  is  it,"  he  said.  "Mother's  angel  must  have 
been  growings— well,  pretty  nigh  all  the  time  since  I've 
known  her;  and  mine  —  I'm  afraid  mine  is  in  the  acorn  yet." 
But  from  that  moment  he  did  ardently  yearn  to  be  set  free 
from  his  bondage. 

It  happened,  as  Mrs.  Moss  had  calculated,  that  they  did 
not  go  home  that  night.  Moses  was  one  of  the  first  to  go 
forward  for  prayers,  and  after  that  Mrs.  Moss  would  not 
have  left  the  ground  without  the  assurance  that  those 
prayers  were  answered,  if  it  had  been  to  receive  a  fortune. 
The  old  dry  husks  of  Moses'  soul  needed  a  great  deal  of 
softening  and  mollifying  before  the  spirit  implanted  within 
could  burst  through ;  but  on  the  third  day  it  was  as  if  a 
little  green  shoot  made  out  into  the  light,  and  a  soul  was 
born. 

"Now,  Moses,"  said  the  good  minister  who  had  touched 
his  heart  at  first,  and  who  seemed  like  a  very  tall  angel  to 
Q 


362  A  WOMAN  S   SECRET. 

him,  "it  is  a  very  tender  plant  yet,  this  new  soul  of  yours; 
it  will  require  much  care;  it  will  grow  slowly,  maybe;  it 
will  have  seasons  of  seeming  to  stand  quite  still;  but  you 
know  the  oak  tree  has  all  the  great,  round  earth  to  draw 
from,  and  all  the  great,  wide  heavens  to  spread  its  arms  to, 
and  your  soul  is  just  as  .well  provided  for.  Never  forget 
that;  never  lose  faith  in  it,  and  God's  mercy  will  bring  you 
through." 

But  Moses  didnotwant  to  go  home  now. 

"Don't  you  suppose,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "that  Jane 
will  do  well  enough  without  us  the  rest  of  the  week  ?  " 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  Rachel.  "  You  stay  right  here,  and 
I'll  go  home  for  an  hour  or  two — any  of  the  neighbors  will 
give  me  a  ride,  or  I  can  walk  for  that  matter — and  then 
I'll  come  back  again." 

It  was  settled  so,  and  they  staid  the  week  out.  When 
they  went  home,  Moses  was  a  very  humble,  but  a  very 
hopeful  man,  and  Rachel  was — the  happiest  woman  in  the 
town. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XXXV. 

THE   POWER   THAT   18    STRONGER   THAN   LOVE. 

Blessed  be  God  for  labor!  If  Rebecca,  on  the  day  after 
her  ride  to  the  old  place,  had  had  no  other  occupation  than 
to  brood  over  her  distress,  her  heart  would,  no  doubt,  have 
softened,  her  hand  gi-own  less  firm  for  the  work  that  was 
before  her;  but  this  morbid  indulgence  of  feeling  her 
circumstances  denied  her.  The  short  sleep  which  she 
gained  after  daylight,  refreshed  her  indeed  but  partially; 
yet  she  rose,  bathed  her  face  in  clear  water  to  remove  the 
tear  stains,  and  dressed  herself  for  the  duties  of  the  day. 
It  did  her  good  to  get  down  once  more  into  the  keen, 
bracing  air  of  traffic ;  to  feel  masculine  strength  all  about 
her;  to  look  into  men's  faces  that  were  nerved  for  endeavor, 
to  listen  to  their  voices  toned  to  absolute  command.  It  is 
the  curse  of  women,  in  times  of  sorrow,  that  they  are  kept 
so  apart  from  the  sphere  and  influence  of  men.  It  is  thus 
they  grow  sensitive,  morbid,  that  their  sorrows  prey  upon 
them  to  their  own  destruction.  Rebecca  did  not  lose  all 
day  the  sense  of  the  trial  which  lay  before  her.  She  knew 
that  at  evening  Mr.  Gladstone  would  seek  her  to  say  his 
last  farewell  before  leaving  for  his  Congressional  duties. 
She  knew  she  should  need  all  the  strength,  composure, 
firmness  which  she  could  command,  to  still  the  moaning 
of  her  own  heart,  as  she  resolutely  tore  herself  away  from 
his  clasp.  Therefore,  she  crowded  her  hours  with  work 
as  she  ha.d  never  done  before;  therefore,  she  listened  to, 
talked  and  thought  of,  business,  business  all  day  long. 
When  night  came,  her  brain  was  jaded,  but  her  heart 
was  calm,  her  pulse  strong.  She  looked  back  upon  her 
decision,  and  knew  that  it  was  right,  just,  inevitable.  To 


364  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

do  otherwise  than  as  she  had  planned,  would  be  frightful, 
monstrous.  Why  she  was  made  to  suffer  thus  was  a 
sealed  mystery  in  the  Father's  hand;  but  as  she  pondered 
on  it,  the  words  of  consolation  that  have  fed  the  spiritual 
life  of  the  world  for  ages  rose  soothingly  to  her  mind. 
'As  thy  day  is,  thy  strength  shall  be.'  'A  bruised  reed 
he  will  not  break.'  'Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust 
him."  Hereon  she  leaned  as  on  a  staff,  and  felt  such 
fullness  of  strength  supporting  her,  as  those  less  tried  can 
never  know. 

When  evening  came,  she  dressed  herself  to  meet  her 
lover.  Her  hair  was  put  back  in  a  plain,  quiet  way,  that 
yet  became  her.  She  chose  a  black  robe,  finished  it  with 
a  plain  linen  collar,  pinned  with  the  cross  of  pearls.  Her 
face  was  very  pale,  her  eyes  full  of  a  deep  and  tender  light, 
and  the  bright  tint  of  her  hair,  contrasting  with  the  white- 
ness of  her  face  and  the  somberness  of  her  robe,  crowned 
her  like  a  saint's  glory. 

Mr.  Gladstone  entering,  and  finding  her  alone  in  the 
library,  caught  the  expression  of  her  downcast  face  and 
drooping  figure  at  once,  but  attributed  it  to  her  sorrow  at 
his  near  departure. 

"My  sweet  Niobe,"  he  said,  as  he  took  her  outstretched 
hand  and  kissed  it. 

But,  as  she  looked  up  into  his  face,  he  saw  something 
there  which  startled  him. 

"  Reba,"  he  said,  "  you  are  in  trouble.     What  is  it  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  still,  with  that  steady,  tearful  gaze ; 
her  heart  swelling,  her  lips  unable  to  frame  the  words  she 
must  speak.  Her  lengthened  silence  struck  his  heart  with 
a  chill ;  he  drew  her  to  him,  as  if  to  melt  the  chain  which 
froze  her  utterance,  by  the  warmth  of  his  own  bosom. 
She  withheld  herself  from  his  embrace,  and  laying  her 
clasped  hands  upon  his  shoulder,  exclaimed ; 

"  Oh !  my  darling,"  in  an  agony  that  was  tearless. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  365 

She  had  never  called  him  by  that  name  before.  He  knew 
that  only  the  deepest  feeling  could  have  wrung  it  from  her 
lips.  The  unquenchable  sorrow  of  her  eyes,  the  tremor 
which  shook  her  voice,  and  pervaded  her  whole  frame, 
appalled  him.  He  thought  at  once  of  the  mystery  which 
shadowed  her  life.  It  seemed  to  him  that  a  cloud  charged 
with  the  lightnings  of  heaven  hung  over  him,  and  waited 
but  for  her  speaking,  to  discharge  its  fiery  blast  upon  his 
head.  The  gloom  of  this  suspense,  the  vagueness  of  this 
terror,  aflected  him  more  deeply  than  the  most  alarming 
certainty  could  have  done.  His  strength,  his  very  manli- 
ness were  shaken  to  the  core. 

"  Reba,"  he  faltered,  "  I  implore  you  to  speak ;  to  tell 
me  what  it  is  that  has  so  overwhelmed  you." 

The  sight  of  his  distress  calmed  her.  She  felt  that  she 
had  need  of  all  the  strength  and  firmness  that  ever  woman 


"  My  friend,"  she  said,  "  I  have  something  very  painful 
to  convey  to  you.  It  will  shake,  perhaps  entirely  unsettle, 
your  trust  in  me.  Therefore,  first  of  all,  I  wish  to  assure 
you  of  one  thing.  However  circumstances  may  seem  to 
testify  against  me,  I  beg  you  still  to  believe  that  you  have 
not  been  deceived  in  me ;  that,  were  my  heart  and  my  life 
open  utterly  to  your  inspection,  could  you  look  at  them  as 
God  looks  at  them,  you  would  find  nothing  there  to  justify 
you  in  a  single  reproach,  a  single  tremor  of  distrust." 

"Reba,"  he  said,  "I  know  all  this,  from  a  surer  source 
than  any  words  of  yours.  I  have  looked  into  your  heart ; 
it  is  only  your  life  which  you  withhold  from  me.  I  am 
wrong  in  suffering  you  to  conceal  even  that.  I  will  endure 
it  no  longer.  Tell  me  all,  my  darling,  and  prove  how  true 
my  love  is,  how  worthy  of  your  largest  confidence." 

"Alas  !  alas !  that  you  should  ask  me  now,  when  it  is  no 
longer  possible  for  me  to  obey  you.  My  friend,  I  did  wrong 
in  that  I  ever  supposed  we  could  be  happy  together,  with 


366  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

this  dai-k  chasm  of  woe,  and  sin,  and  mystery,  between  us. 
God,  in  His  providence,  and  in  a  way  more  emphatic  and 
terrible  than  I  could  imagine  beforehand,  has  shown  me 
my  error,  and  now  I  have  to  ask  of  you"  —  she  hid  her 
face;  she  could  not  control  its  workings — "that  you  will 
release  me  from  all  my  vows ;  that  you  will  accept  release 
from  yours." 

"Reba,"  he  said,  catching  her  hand  in  a  despair  that 
was  agony  besides.  "You  do  not  know  what  you  are 
saying;  you  do  not  mean  it.  You  know  well,  that  you  are 
my  life,  my  one  treasure.  I  have  waited  all  these  years  for 
you;  for  you  I  have  toiled;  for  you  I  have  suffered;  for 
you  I  have  triumphed;  since,  losing  you,  I  lose  the  blessing 
of  all  that  fortune  and  ray  own  right  arm  have  wrought  out 
for  me.  Rebecca,  ask  me  to  die,  to  lay  down  my  life  at 
your  feet,  but  never  ask  me,  while  I  live,  to  release  my 
hold  on  you." 

Her  bosom  swelled,  and  she  heaved  a  pitiful  sigh,  but 
she  was  still  firm. 

"My  friend,"  she  said,  "you  do  not  know,  you  cannot 
know.  In  this  one  thing  you  must  trust  to  me.  You  know 
that  I  love  you ;  oh !  how  dearly  I  love  you  no  man  can 
know,"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  sudden  passion  of  tears ;  then, 
as  she  gained  strength  to  speak  again:  "You  know  how 
lonely  my  life  is ;  but  for  you,  how  utterly  unloved ;  you 
see  the  temptation,  you  see  the  agony  I  feel  in  putting  it 
away  from  me ;  do  you  think  I  would  suffer  all  this  myself, 
or  inflict  it  upon  you,  if  it  were  not  imperatively  neces- 
sary?" 

"  Reba,  this  is  a  case  in  which  you  have  no  right  to  be 
the  sole  judge.  If  this  blow  must  fall,  which  I  do  not 
believe,  there  is  only  one  way  in  which  it  can  be  softened, 
and  I  have  a  right  to  that  amelioration." 

"  My  friend,  that  is  your  error.  If  I  saw  that  knowledge 
would  soften  the  blow ;  if  I  did  not  see  that  it  would  only 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  367 

render  the  edge  tenfold  more  keen,  believe  me,  I  would 
this  instant  disregard  utterly  the  pain  it  would  be  to  me. 
I  would  confess  all ;  but  I,  knowing  all,  in  mercy  spare 
you." 

She  had  spoken  purposely  of  her  own  pain,  that  he 
might,  by  all  possible  means,  be  restrained  from  urging 
her. 

"  Reba,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  is  Mrs.  Darrell  acquainted 
with  this  ne\v  determination  of  yours,  and  its  cause  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  can  tell  no  one.  It  is  a  secret  lodged  sacredly, 
indefeasibly  in  my  own  possession." 

"  I  thank  heaven  for  that ;  after  all  we  have  been  to  each 
other,  I  could  not  have  brooked  a  rival  in  this  matter." 
Then,  after  a  pause :  "  You  are  treating  me  like  a  child, 
Rebecca.  Show  me  something  to  do,  to  battle  with,  and 
prove  if  I  have  not  a  man's  strength  to  defend  my  own." 

"  If  you  knew  all,  you  would  renounce  me  of  your  own 
free  will,"  she  said,  "  and  I  could  not  bear  that." 

"  Oh !  Reba,  you  will  never  know  me.  My  diamond 
may  have  a  flaw  in  it,  but  what  then?  It  is  a  diamond, 
and  I  will  part  with  it  for  no  rubbish  of  too  perfect  paste." 

"  Oh !  my  friend,  it  is  not  I  who  have  done  this  thing. 
It  is  God  who  has  placed  His  hand  between  us.  It  is  He 
who  lays  his  finger  on  my  lips,  and  compels  silence.  It  is 
He  who  metes  out  this  bitter  cup  to  both  of  us,  and  bids 
us  in  patience  drink  of  it." 

"Don't  tell  me  that,  Reba;  you  shake  my  faith  in 
heaven  itself,  when  you  say  that.  There  is  no  Fatherly 
love,  there  is  no  God-like  tenderness  in  such  a  dispensation 
as  this." 

Reba's  answer  flowed  instinctively  in  the  language  of 
one  of  old,  who  was  troubled  beyond  his  strength  to  bear. 

'"Wait  on  the  Lord,'"  she  said,  "be  of  good  courage, 
wait,  I  say,  on  the  Lord." 

"  Wait !"  he  exclaimed,  "is  there  hope  in  waiting ?   Tell 


> 
368  A  WOMAS'S  SECRET. 

me  that,  and  I  will  curb  my  impatient  spirit;  but  have  1 
not  waited  all  these  years.  Oh !  Reba,  it  is  too  much.  If 
God  takes  you  from  me ;  if  He  brings  blackness,  and 
desolation,  and  anguish,  in  place  of  all  this  light,  and  joy, 
and  bloom,  then  I  will  no  longer  call  Him  Father;  I  will 
no  longer  believe  Him  the  beneficent  Being  He  proclaims 
Himself." 

Reba  had  a  strong  spirit,  but  she  shuddered  at  these 
rebellious  words.  Striving  to  soften  and  soothe  him,  her 
own  heart  grew  soft. 

"  Oh  !  wait  for  Him,"  she  said,  "  you  cannot  know  His 
purposes,  you  cannot  know  His  ways.  I,  to  whom  so 
much  of  suffering  has  come,  have  this  testimony  to  bear; 
that,  looking  back  over  my  life,  I  see  not  one  trial,  now, 
which  has  not  been  to  me  a  most  precious  blessing.  It 
cannot  be  that  this,  the  worst  of  all,  will  fail  of  its  destiny. 
Out  of  the  bitter,  will  come  the  sweet,  if  we  can  but 
possess  ourselves  with  patience,  and  wait  the  Father's 
time." 

He  put  his  arms  about  her,  and  laid  his  head  upon  her 
shoulder,  and  cried  out  piteously : 

"  Oh  !  my  good  angel,  my  tender,  holy  saint,  how  can  I 
give  you  up  ?  Strong  man  as  I  am,  with  wealth  and  honors, 
and  a  will  to  do  in  the  world,  I  faint,  I  languish  under  this 
blow ;  while  you,  a  weak  woman,  lonely,  friendless,  unsus- 
tained,  are  strong,  and  bear  me  up.  I  shall  fall  into  a  pit 
of  recklessness  and  despair';  I  shall  go  all  astray  without 
you.  My  love,  my  life,  I  cannot  give  you  up." 

"No,"  she  said,  flaming  into  sudden  energy,  "you  will 
not  go  astray  without  me,  you  will  not  fall  into  a  pit  of 
recklessness  and  despair.  My  one  friend,  I  have  loved 
you  too  well  for  that.  The  memory  of  these  hours  we 
have  spent  together;  that,  if  naught  else,  will  keep  you 
from  despair.  Your  hands  have  held  mine,  your  lips  have 
touched  mine;  keep  them  pure  for  me  till  we  can  meet 


A  WOMAN'S    SECRET. 


in  heaven.  Oh,  dearest  heart,  grow  great,  grow  strong, 
thinking  of  that  meeting.  Life  is  a  shred,  a  bit  of  tinder 
under  the  spark;  it  burns  out  while  we  look  at  it;  but 
heaven  is  for  all  eternity.  Let  us  live  for  that." 

"No,  Reba,  life  seems  very  long  and  very  strong  to  me. 
Its  duties  press  upon  me.  My  way  to  heaven  lies  through 
the  thick  of  them;  and  in  every  stress,  every  emergency, 
I  shall  need  you." 

"My  friend,  God  is  able  to  bring  you  through.  The 
way  which  seems  so  long  now  will  grow  shorter  as  you 
advance.  I  knew  a  woman  once  who  was  separated  by 
circumstances  from  the  love  of  her  youth.  She  married 
afterward,  was  a  true  and  worthy  wife,  a  tender  and 
excellent  mother.  Her  husband  adored,  and  her  children 
revered  her.  But  at  seventy,  while  she  was  still  a  hale 
and  hearty  woman,  with  none  of  the  childishness  and 
infirmities  of  age  upon  her,  she  spoke  to  me  of  that  early 
love.  The  girlish  color  came  back  to  her  cheek,  the  dim 
eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  overflowed  upon  the  wasted 
hands.  'Ah!'  she  said,  'he  will  be  mine,  I  shall  be  his — 
in  heaven.  For  the  bliss  of  that  reunion,  it  has  not  been 
long  to  wait" 

He  held  her  fast;  he  looked  into  her  eyes,  with  a  glance 
that  seemed  to  pierce  to  her  very  soul. 

"Reba,"  he  said,  "tell  me  this;  you  will  not  many,  you 
will  not  bear  children  to  another?" 

She  laid  her  hand  in  his,  and  answered  gently: 

"Never,  my  friend.  If  ever  the  time  comes  when  I  can 
safely  and  honorably  resume  these  bonds,  which  now  are 
so  painfully  laid  off,  there  will  be  no  obstacle  of  my 
creating  in  the  way;  and  yet,  the  time  may  never  come  in 
this  world;  and  you,  with  your  strong  life,  your  fair  fame, 
your  broad  field  of  vision  and  action,  you  ought  not  to 
fetter  yourself  with  any  impracticable  tie,  and  I  do  not 
ask  it." 


370  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  turned  away 
in  silence.  At  length  he  said : 

"  Reba,  you  make  much  of  my  house  and  lands,  and 
name  arid  honors:  Know  that,  for  the  right  to  call  this 
littlfe  hand  my  own,  and  to  appropriate  to  myself  all  that 
Would  go  with  it,  I  would  renounce  all  these  things 
forever.  And  this  is  no  idle  boast  of  passion,  no  gallant 
phrase  from  the  lips  of  a  headstrong,  sensuous  boy,  but 
the  full  outcome  of  a  strong  man's  heart.  Reba,  I  love 
you;  oh,  I  love  you !" 

The  moisture  of  his  eyes,  the  convulsive  working  of  his 
features,  touched  her  heart  with  anguish  he  could  not  know. 

"It  grieves  me  most  of  all,"  he  said,  "that  you  will  not 
confide  in  me." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "I  know  that,  for  the  deepest  sting 
of  my  own  grief  is,  that  I  caniwt  confide  in  you.  If  that 
resource,  that  consolation  were  left  me,  my  trouble  would 
be  lightened  one-half;  but,  my  friend,  it  cannot  be." 

At  the  first,  the  suddenness  of  the  blow  had  over- 
whelmed him;  and  taking  advantage  of  his  surprise,  she 
had  borne  him  on  with  the  current  of  her  own  thought 
and  feeling,  past  the  natural  barriers  and  obstacles  which 
he  might  be  expected  to  raise;  but  now,  as  he  nerved 
himself  for  the  situation,  and  grew  calm  enough  to  make 
some  effort  to  command  it,  they  naturally  recurred  to  his 
mind.  But  the  advantage  she  had  gained,  she  kept. 

"Reba,"  he  said,  "it  must  be.  You  confess  that  to 
confide  in  me  would  lighten  your  sorrow;  then  I  insist 
that  you  shall  so  confide,  regardless  of  any  other  conse- 
quences. I  am  a  man,  you  a  woman.  I  would  scorn 
an  immunity  from  grief,  purchased  at  such  cost.  It  is 
unnatural,  it  is  wrong.  It  is  Quixotic,  absurd,  in  you  to 
think  of  such  a  thing." 

"  I  was  wrong,"  she  replied,  "  in  speaking  so,  or  you 
were  wrong  in  so  interpreting  me.  I  only  meant  that,  if 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  371 

it  were  possible  for  me  to  confide  in  you,  I  should  do  so 
with  relief.  As  it  is,  confession  would  rack  both  your 
soul  and  mine  with  unnecessary  pain.  Now,  when  you 
leave  me,  you  have  still  a  world  of  action,  of  ambition,  to 
fall  back  upon;  a  world  in  which  you  will  be  recognized, 
and  wherein  you  will  earn  rewards  that  cannot  fail  to 
oheer  you.  Ten  words  that  I  might  speak  would  canker 
your  ambition,  paralyze  your  action,  make  your  world  a 
desert,  and  I  should  be  tenfold  more  deeply  lost  to  you 
than  I  am  now." 

"Your  imagination  still  busies  itself  with  the  empty 
shoxvs  of  this  world.  Reba,  they  are  nothing  to  me. 
Lean  your  head  upon  my  shoulder,  and  tell  me  all  that  is 
in  your  heart;  make  yourself  one  with  me  in  reality,  as 
you  have  promised,  and  I  will  fly  with  you  beyond  the 
reach  of  this  ban,  this  blight,  this  nameless  thing  of  evil. 
We  will  wrench  ourselves  utterly  out  of  this  life  which  we 
have  led;  we  will  cast  it  behind  us  as  a  worn-out  garment; 
we  will  commence  the  world  anew,  as  free  from  encum- 
brance as  new-born  babes.  Why,  a  man  is  no  man,  if 
he  cannot  free  himself  from  an  evil  in  which  he  has  no 
actual  part." 

"A  man,  it  is  true,  may  defy  the  powers  of  evil;  not  so 
a  woman.  Besides,  we  cannot  lay  memory  aside  as  a 
cast-off  garment.  If  we  take  the  wings  of  the  morning, 
and  fly  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  even  there 
shall  this  sin  grimly  come  between  us,  a  shadow,  a  ban,  a 
curse  forever.  Oh!  my  friend,  if  I  looked  upon  it  utterly 
as  a  dispensation  of  man's  will,  I  should  sink  in  the  deep 
waters  of  doubt  and  unbelief.  But  I  know  it  is  of  God; 
therefore,  I  dare  not  murmur.  The  hearts  of  men  are  in 
His  hand,  and  He  turneth  them  as  the  rivers  of  water  are 
turned.  When  the  time  comes  he  will  assuage  these 
billows,  and  set  our  feet  on  dry  land.  Till  then  we  must 
wait." 


372  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"And  languish  unto  death.  Reba,  there  is  no  force,  no 
beauty,  nothing  to  be  desired  in  life,  when  you  are  taken 
from  me." 

"Yet,  still  the  world  goes  round;  still  the  stars  burn  in 
their  courses;  still  the  sun  shines  on  the  evil  and  on  the 
good;  still  God  reigneth  over  all.  Oh!  my  love,  my  life, 
what  is  one  human  heart  compared  with  this  great  universe 
built  up  in  God's  love ;  this  vast  illimitable  sea  of  being 
upon  which  we  are  launched.  While  duty,  aspiration, 
God,  are  left,  let  no  man  nor  woman  despair.  They  are 
more  than  enough  to  live  for  at  this  present,  and  they  will 
lead  on  to  blessings  untold,  unutterable.  You  have  a 
man's  strength;  let  it  first  defy  the  evil  of  your  own  heart; 
its  doubt,  its  unbelief,  its  despair." 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  the  hours  wore  on;  how  these  two, 
having  put  mere  human  passion  under  their  feet,  soared 
into  a  region  higher,  more  celestial,  and  drank  of  fountains 
they  had  never  known  before.  The  stars  had  marked 
the  midnight  watches  before  he  left  her ;  but  when  he  wrung 
her  hand  in  that  last  tearful  adieu,  the  earth  seemed  no 
bigger  than  a  point  in  space,  and  heaven  lay  all  about 
them,  wide,  and  free,  and  full  of  glory. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  378 


XXXVI. 

A    LOVE    THAT    WAS    FREE. 

Mr.  Gladstone  had  a  busy  day,  and  at  evening  bade 
farewell  to  his  native  town  in  a  very  much  graver  mood 
than  any  of  the  numerous  friends  who  accompanied  him 
to  the  d^p6t,  and  sent  him  off  with  cheerful  admonitions, 
and  good  wishes,  and  heartfelt  blessings,  could  have 
imagined. 

All  day  those  two  lines  had  rung  through  his  mind  like 
far-off  chimes: 

"  Not  enjoyment  and  not  sorrow 
Is  our  destined  end  or  way." 

It  seemed  to  him  that  hitherto  he  had  been  living  in  the 
vestibule  of  his  life,  which  was  opened  by  the  door  of  this 
great  sorrow,  into  a  vast  auditorium  hitherto  unsuspected. 
Already  solemn  purposes,  sublime  aspirations,  strong 
endeavors  beckoned  him  within;  and  he  felt  that  if  he 
joined  them,  clasped  hands  with  them,  he  must  leave 
much  of  life's  airy  splendor,  its  festal  light  and  beauty 
behind  him. 

"Can  I  cast  the  shining  charms  of  life  to  the  winds?" 
he  asked  himself.  "  Can  I  trample  all  its  gay  and  tempting 
fascinations  under  my  feet  ?  can  I  die  to  the  flesh,  living 
only  to  the  spirit;  take  the  world's  burdens  upon  my 
shoulders  instead  of  the  sweet  burdens  of  love,  and  home, 
and  children?  can  I  satisfy  myself  with  this  spiritual 
wrestling,  this  shadowy,  spiritual  crown ;  and  all  without 
her — in  that  dismal,  shivering  cold  and  darkness  which 
the  eclipse  of  her  heavenly,  yet  human,  face  dispenses?" 
The  whisper  came  to  him  as  from  that  inmost  cell  in  his 
heart  where  her  sweet  image  was  enshrined.  "  So  shall  she 
be  nearest  to  you ;  so  her  smile  be  sweetest  through  hours 


374  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

that  were  otherwise  blank  and  bitter;  so  her  memory  and 
her  love  make  bright  and  beautiful,  what  else  no  power 
on  earth  could  make  other  than  cold,  and  barren,  and 
desolate."  He  gained  in  that  moment  some  faint  glimpse 
of  how  infinitely  the  powers  of  the  spirit  transcend  the 
powers  of  the  flesh;  how  the  one  reach  down  and  fettei 
themselves  to  clods  of  earth,  whilst  the  other  stretch 
away  through  fields  of  light  beyond  the  stars,  and  stay 
themselves  at  last  on  the  infinite  bosom  of  God.  He  shed 
some  tears,  he  heaved  some  sighs,  he  heaped  some  grave 
mounds,  whose  nameless  headstones  were  more  eloquent 
to  him  than  mighty  mausoleums  of  lettered  marble;  but  he 
entered  the  gay  capital,  with  its  dazzle,  its  fascinations,  its 
shifting,  sensual  allurements,  with  a  mind  and  faith  as 
simple,  yet  as  strong,  as  the  faith  of  the  Hebrew  youth 
when  he  went  forth  to  encounter  the  giant  of  Gath. 

But  on  the  morning  of  the  day  of  his  departure,  the 
breakfast  bell  had  rung  at  Mrs.  Darrell's,  and  the  family 
had  gathered  about  the  table,  and  there  was  still  one 
absent.  Mrs.  Darrell  said  to  Maude,  as  they  rose  from  the 
table,  and  there  was  yet  no  addition  to  their  number : 

"My  dear,  do  go  up  and  knock  at  Reba's  door,  and  see 
if  she  is  ill.  She  is  always  so  punctual  that  I  really  feel 
alarmed." 

Maude  came  back  in  a  few  minutes  with  a  frightened 
look. 

"Mamma,"  she  said,  "I  think  you  ought  to  go  yourself 
and  see  her.  She  is  ill,  I  am  sure.  She  says  it  is  only  a 
headache,  but  her  face  has  the  look  of  death  on  it." 

Mrs.  Darrell  hastened  to  her  friend's  bedside. 

"Why,  Reba,"  she  said,  "you  are  certainly  sick.  Why 
have  you  not  sent  for  me  before?" 

"I  have  a  slight  headache,  but  that  is  all,"  said  Reba, 
faintly.  "Absolutely  not  another  pain,"  she  added,  seeing 
the  incredulous  look  upon  Mrs.  DarreH's  face.  "But  I 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  375 

do  not  feel  very  strong,  and  I  think  I  shall  have  to  stay 
away  from  the  office,  if  Mr.  Darrell  will  take  my  excuse 
to  them." 

Mrs.  Darrell  *at  in  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  she 
answered  very  quietly, 

"  Certainly,  he  will  do  that.  What  shall  I  send  up  for 
your  breakfast  ?  " 

"Nothing." 

"Not  a  cup  of  coffee  and  some  toast?" 

"No,  I  could  not  eat  it.  If  I  am  quite  by  myself, 
perhaps  I  may  get  a  little  sleep." 

Mrs.  Darrell  went  down  stairs  deeply  troubled.  The 
doctor  came  in,  in  the  course  of  the  morning,  and  she  told 
him  her  anxiety. 

"IFm!"  said  the  doctor.  "Ho!  ho!"  and  then,  after  a 
few  minutes'  meditation  with  downcast  eyes:  "She  rode 
out  with  Gladstone  night  before  last,  didn't  she?" 

"Yes." 

"Went  over  to  the  old  place?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  she  speak  of  going  about  the  house?  Did  she  see 
the  portraits  Marston  painted  there  ?  You  know  he  took 
the  whole  family." 

"I'm  sure  I  can't  say,"  said  Laura,  quite  at  sea  concern- 
ing the  doctor's  object  in  asking. 

"  I  know  she  seemed  very  much  out  of  spirits  all  day 
yesterday,  but  I  thought  it  might  be  because  Gladstone 
was  going  away.  I  'even  thought  this  morning  that  that, 
and  her  sitting  up  late,  might  have  something  to  do  with 
her  headache ;  but  she  looks  as  I  never  saw  her  look 
before.  Wouldn't  you  better  go  up  and  see  her?" 

"No,  no,"  said  the  doctor,  pensively.  "I  won't  go  up 
and  see  her  now.  Give  her  a  little  time;  a  —  little  — 
time.  I  will  come  in  again  toward  night,  and  if  she  isn't 
any  better,  I'll  see  her  then." 


376  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

The  doctor  went  away  with  his  head  bowed  down  and 
a  very  grave  look  upon  his  face.  In  the  afternoon  he 
called  again,  as  he  had  promised.  In  the  course  of  the 
day  he  had  seen  Mrs.  Durfee,  the  farmer's  wife  at  the  old 
place,  and  had  drawn  from  her  in  a  quiet  way  all  the  facts 
which  she  knew  concerning  the  visit  there;  among  the  rest, 
that  "Miss  March  had  been  in  the  parlor  alone  for  near 
about  half  an  hour;"  that,  "standing  outside  on  the  piazzy, 
she  had  seen  her  looking  at  the  pictures.  Dick  Glad- 
stone's was  in  that  room,  a-standin'  on  the  floor;  but  she 
saw,  when  she  went  in  to  shut  up  the  room,  that  it  had 
been  moved." 

"Ho !  ho !"  said  the  doctor.  "Richard  is  coming  home, 
I  hear,  coining  home.  Didn't  do  as  well  in  South  America 
as  he  expected  to.  Is  coming  home  to  settle  down.  Don't 
know  what  he'll  find  to  do  in  this  town.  It  is  a  small 
place  for  a  big  man.  Richard  was  always  a — mighty  big 
— feeling — man.  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Durfee,  good  morn- 
ing. If  Job's  rheumatism  don't  get  any  better,  tell  him  to 
come  down  to  my  office  and  I'll  give  him  some  liniment. 
Good  day." 

"  The  doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Job  Durfee,  "  is  just  the  pry- 
in'est  man  I  ever  did  see.  What  airthly  consarn  o'  his 
was't  what  that  gal  did  when  she  was  over  to  the  place. 
It  has  just  got  to  be  a  second  natur'  with  him  to  squint, 
and  pry,  and  dive  inter  things,  and  it  ain't  o'  no  more  use 
than  the  wind's  whistling."  Which  conclusion  answered 
Mrs.  Durfee's  turn  just  as  well  as  a  wiser  one  would  have. 

That  evening  the  doctor  went  up  to  Reba's  room.  She 
was  lying  on  her  pillow  very  white;  and,  as  Maude  had 
said,  with  the  look  of  death  upon  her  face. 

The  doctor  felt  her  pulse,  and  held  her  hand  in  his  a 
moment  after;  he  asked  few  questions,  but  noted  with 
careful,,  critical  eye,  two  or  three  symptoms  which  told 
him  all  he  wanted  to  know. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  377 

"Laura,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Darrell,  who  stood  by  the 
bed,  "you'd  better  go  down  and  tell  Nancy  to  get  a  jug  of 
hot  water  ready  to  put  to  her  feet.  She  needn't  bring  it 
up  now,  but  when  I  am  gone."  Laura  went  down  quite 
innocent  of  any  suspicion  that  the  doctor  desired  her 
absence. 

"You  must  keep  still,"  he  said,  "for  a  day  or  two,  but 
not  too  long,  Rebecca.  It  isn't  best  ever  to  give  way  to 
the  feelings  too  long."  He  was  holding  her  hand  now, 
and  leaning  back  in  his  chair  with  his  eyes  tightly  closed. 
He  had  no  wish  to  see  the  pain  upon  her  face,  which  he 
knew  his  words  would  cause.  "  We  can't  any  of  us  get 
out  of  the  world  till  our  time  comes ;  but  we  must  try  to 
have  strength  to  live  in  the  world.  I  shall  send  you  up  a 
little  medicine,  which  I  hope  will  give  you  a  start ;  and 
just  as  soon  as  you  are  able,  I  want  you  to  ride  out  with 
me.  I  shall  like  your  company,  and  it  will  do  you  good ; 
do — you — good.  Rebecca,  a  friend  is  born  for  adversity; 
I  should — like — it, — if — you — would — consider — me — 
a  friend." 

The  doctor  opened  his  eyes  just  in  time.  His  gentle 
tone  had  touched  Rebecca's  heart.  The  tears  had  been 
stealing  through  the  lids,  against  her  firm  determination 
to  shut  them  back,  all  the  while  that  he  had  been  speaking; 
but,  at  these  last  words,  the  flood-gates  burst,  and  she 
sobbed  convulsively.  The  doctor  laid  his  hand  softly  upon 
her  head. 

"  That's  right,"  he  said ;  "  you  hav'n't  cried  before,  all 
day.  It  will  do  you  good."  He  sat  by  her  five  minutes, 
perhaps,  in  silence ;  his  grave,  gentle  presence,  all  the 
time  softening  the  paroxysm  of  her  grief.  Then  he  said  : 
"  Now,  I  think  you  are  relieved,  and  might  better  take  an 
anodyne.  It  is  simple ;  it  won't  hurt  you.  When  I  came 
in,  I  was  a  little  afraid  of  a  slow  fever ;  but — you'll —  get 
over  it — without — now — I  hope.  I  hope  you  will."  He 
Q2 


378  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

took  a  powder  from  his  pocket,  and  dropping  it  into  water, 
placed  it  to  her  lips,  and  she  swallowed  it.  In  another 
moment  she  was  able  to  speak  to  him. 

"Oh!  doctor  Gaines,"  she  said,  "  I  cannot  thank  you." 

"  You  needn't  try,  Rebecca ;  you  needn't  try,"  was  all 
he  said.  "  I  shall  come  in  again,  in  the  morning." 

He  did  come  in  again,  and  found  that  his  patient  had 
slept,  and  was  decidedly  better.  She  was  very  weak  yet.  In 
that  night  of  trial  and  sorrow  she  had  drained  her  system 
of  its  best  energies;  had  used  up  nervous  force  enough 
to  have  sufficed  for  weeks  of  her  ordinary  life  ;  but  she  had 
buoyed  the  soul  of  her  lover  up  out  of  the  slough  into  which 
it  had  threatened  to  sink ;  she  had  yielded  him  inspiration 
which  should  make  him  strong  for  months  to  come. 

In  three  days  time  she  was  able  to  ride  out  with  the 
doctor.  In  a  week  she  was  back  at  the  office ;  pale  still, 
with  a  look  of  sustained  trial  on  her  face  which  chal- 
lenged attention,  but  forbade  remark;  but  able  to  go  about 
her  duties  without  faltering  or  failure.  She  made  no  confi- 
dants; she  noticed  as  little  as  possible  the  remarks  which 
were  made  concerning  the  fact  that  no  letters  came  to  her 
from  Washington.  To  Mrs.  Darrell  she  said,  quietly,  "  It 
is  all  over;  we  shall  never  marry;"  to  the  doctor,  still  less. 
But  she  knew  that  he,  at  least,  knew  all.  She  could  not 
tell  how ;  she  did  not  care  to  know,  so  long  as  his  knowl- 
edge was  her  one  unfailing  comfort,  and  the  source  of  all 
her  human  consolation.  Again  and  again  she  said  to  herself, 
that,  but  for  the  doctor,  she  must  have  sunk.  Again  and 
again  she  reflected  how  much  misery  might  be  saved  to 
women,  how  oftentimes  their  very  lives  spared,  if  the  men 
about  them  would  yield  them  just  this  pure,  wise,  disinter- 
ested friendship. 

The  short  December  days  came  and  went,  and  Christmas 
drew  near.  The  Puritan  horror  of  this  most  blessed  anni- 
versary is  not  yet  extinct  in  New  England ;  but,  year  by 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  379 

year,  it  is  softened  by  the  inroads  of  a  broader  and  brighter 
faith.  On  this  year  of  all,  Mrs.  Darrell  felt  that  it  would 
be  a  twice  blessed  relief  to  at  least  one  inmate  of  her  house, 
if  the  season  should  be  observed  with  unusual  ceremony. 
So  a  Christmas  tree  was  ordained,  and  many  otherwise 
lonely  and  sorrowful  hours  Reba  spent  in  the  midst  of  the 
children,  devising  and  executing  decorations  for  the  same. 
But,  when  that  day  arrived,  the  joy  it  brought  to  the 
Darrell  household,  was  poor  and  p'ale  beside  that  which 
illuminated  the  humbler  home  of  the  Mosses. 

Hitherto  Christmas  had  passed  over  their  family  chimney, 
and  had  dropped  there  no  beneficent  Santa  Glaus.  The 
eager  little  Mosses  always  secretly  hoped,  till  the  last,  that 
some  good  genius,  sprite  or  fairy,  might  alight  upon  their 
hearth-stone,  and  surprise  them  with  a  present  of  a 
"boughten"  toy,  or  at  least  a  piece  of  "trainin'"  ginger- 
bread ;  but,  alas !  none  ever  came.  When  the  Christmas 
sun  had  circled  the  globe,  and  reappeared  on  their  horizon, 
a  Christmas  sun  no  longer;  when  the  last  doubt  was 
banished,  the  last,  lingering  hope  dispelled,  they  always 
drew  a  long  breath,  and  comforted  themselves  with  the 
reflection,  that  at  least  they  were  no  worse  off  than  they 
had  been  two  days  before.  Adversity  had  made  philoso- 
phers of  the  little  Mosses. 

But  this  Christmas  was  destined  to  be  a  brilliant  excep- 
tion to  all  its  dingy  predecessors.  On  that  very  Christmas 
eve,  after  they  had  gone  to  bed,  omitting,  as  a  useless 
ceremony,  to  hang  up  their  stockings,  there  came  a 
stealthly  knock  at  the  door,  and  to  the  surprise  of  the 
two  elders,  it  opened  to  admit  Miss  March  and  the  doctor. 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  "  this  is  surprisin'.  Why,  it's 
a'most  as  good  to  have  you  two  come,  as  'twould  be  to 
have  a  real  Santa  Glaus." 

"Ah!"  said  Reba,  "how  do  you  know  that  we  hav'n't 
brought  Santa  Glaus.  See,  here  is  a  great  bundle  I  received 


380  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

from  New  York,  to-day,  by  express;  the  contents  of  which 
I  was  to  deliver  here  at  nine  o'clock.  Come,  Mrs.  Moss," 
she  continued,  with  true  Christmas  glee,  "  get  me  some 
stockings  at  once,  and  hang  them  in  a  line.  I've  got 
enough  to  fill  all  there  are  in  the  house." 

Moses  was  listening  with  open  mouth  and  eyes.  "What 
the  dickens  do  you  mean,  Miss  Reba?"  he  asked,  at  length. 

"  Oh !  I  know,"  said  Rachel,  tears  coming  into  her  eyes. 
"It's  my  boy  Theodore  has  sent  it.  I  knew  he  hadn't 
forgot  his  home ;  but  it's  the  beater  of  all  to  think  that  he 
should  send  us  a  Christmas." 

She  bustled  about,  half  demented  with  joy,  to  get  the 
stockings,  stopping  every  half  minute  to  look  at  the 
wonders  which  Reba  displayed.  They  were  simple,  inex- 
pensive gifts,  for  Theodore  was  getting  small  pay  yet;  but 
they  were  so  well  chosen,  that  it  was  evident  he  had  spent 
a  good  deal  of  time  and  thought  over  the  selection.  A 
nice,  warm  sontag  for  his  mother;  a  comical,  colored  pipe 
for  his  father ;  a  comb  for  Jane ;  a  necktie  for  Belinda  ; 
and  tops,  and  dancing-jacks,  and  climbing  monkeys,  for  the 
younger  fry.  For  each  one  something,  and  just  the  thing 
which  each  most  wanted.  And  such  a  merry,  rollicking 
Christmas  letter,  too,  as  came  with  the  bundle.  It  did 
them  all  good  to  hear  it  read,  for  Mrs.  Moss  got  out  her 
spectacles,  and  read  it  aloud,  half  blinded  and  completely 
choked  by  spells  with  happy  tears. 

"  You  mustn't  think  I've  been  extravagant,  mother,"  he 
said,  "for  I  hav'n't  taken  a  penny  of  my  regular  wagea 
for  these  things ;  but  have  worked  evenings  at  such  jobs 
as  I  could  get,  earning  two  shillings  one  night  and  four  the 
next,  maybe,  on  purpose  for  this.  If  I  could  only  go  home 
myself  with  the  things,  and  see  how  happy  you  all  are, 
that  would  be  the  crowning  thing  of  all.  But  I  know  you 
will  write  me,  and  so  will  Miss  Reba,  and  next  summer,  if 
nothing  happens,  I  mean  to  come  home  myself." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  381 

There  had  been  a  little  postscript  to  the  letter,  which 
Rebecca  had  not  shown  Mrs.  Moss.  In  a  pretty  box  by 
itself  there  had  been  a  bracelet  of  Roman  pearl,  which 
he  had  asked  Reba  to  deliver,  if  she  thought  it  would  not 
offend  her,  to  Maude  Darrell,  with  his  best  wishes.  "  It  is 
not  expensive,"  he  said,  "and  the  young  ladies  here  wear 
them,  and  Miss  Maude  was  always  so  kind  to  me  when  I 
was  in  her  father's  store." 

Reba  had  executed  her  commission  in  a  very  quiet  and 
delicate  way,  and  had  watched  the  color  creep  into 
Maude's  cheek — Maude  had  her  aunt  Joanna's  charming 
blush  —  and  had  indulged  herself  in  a  trifle  of  speculation 
about  it ;  but  she  had  not  thought  it  wise  to  tell  all  this 
to  Mrs.  Moss. 

After  Reba  and  the  doctor  had  gone,  Moses  Moss  and 
his  wife  sat  with  clasped  hands,  and  happier  hearts  than 
young  lovers  in  their  teens  can  dream. 

"I  tell  you,  said  Mrs.  Moss,  "it  is  worth  living  for,  worth 
being  old  and  gray  and  worn  out,  to  have  such  a  boy  as 
that." 

"He'll  do  more  in  the  world  than  his  father  has  ever 
done,"  said  Moses,  pensively. 

"Well,  now,  you  needn't  say  that,"  said  Rachel,  "for 
you've  worked  and  slaved,  and  gone  without,  to  bring  him 
up,  and  all  the  rest  of  'em;  and  they're  a  likely  lot  so  far; 
and  the  Father  above,  he  knows  that  it's  more  to  the  world, 
and  more  wearin',  too,  to  the  flesh,  to  bring  up  a  family 
of  good  children,  than  it  is  to  make  a  fortune  and  keep  it 
shut  up  in  bank  vaults.  This  night,  I  tell  ye,  Moses,  I 
don't  envy  any  rich  man  his  fortune." 

"Well,  nor  I  neither,  for  that  matter,"  said  Moses.  "The 
Lord  has  been  pretty  good  to  us,  after  all,  Rachel ;  and 
what  little  we  don't  get  in  this  world,  he'll  more'n  make 
ap  to  us  in  another,  I  s'pose." 

Moses'  faith  was  a  tender  plant  as  yet,  but  it  showed 


382  A  AVOMAN  S    SECRET. 

unmistakable  signs  of  growth,  and  only  the  good  Father 
knew  with  what  prayers,  and  tears,  and  watchings  his 
faithful  wife  tended  it. 

Of  the  joy  of  the  children  on  that  Christmas  morning  it 
is  bootless  to  speak.  It  was  an  occasion  long  to  be  remem- 
bered. From  that  day  forth,  not  at  the  home  fireside 
only,  but  all  through  the  village,  for  Mrs.  Moss  did  not 
fail  to  spread  the  fame  thereof  with  much  motherly  pride 
and  joy,  it  was  a  settled  conclusion  that  Theodore  Moss 
was  growing  to  be  an  honor  to  his  friends. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  383 


XXXVII. 

THE    FLOWEB    OF   THE    AGES. 

The  winter  passed,  and  Richard  Clavering  did  not  make 
his  appearance,  and  all  rumors  concerning  him  ceased. 
Reba  had  once  felt  that  she  must  leave  the  town  before  his 
arrival;  but  the  time  of  that  event  seemed  so  uncertain, 
and  the  ties  which  bound  her  to  this  sheltering  home 
grew  day  by  day  so  strong;  above  all,  she  felt  so  little 
strength  to  go  out  again  into  the  world,  and  make  for 
herself  new  conditions  and  new  ties,  that  she  still  lingered, 
comforting  herself  with  the  vague  hope  that  this  form  of 
trial  might  be  spared  her. 

As  the  spring  opened,  Mrs.  Darrell's  desire  to  enter  the 
lists  of  Reform  began  to  take  definite  shape. 

"I  have  thought  the  matter  over  carefully  and  prayer- 
fully," she  said  to  Reba,  one  evening,  "and  this  is  the 
result:  The  field  is  white  to  the  harvest;  the  laborers  are 
few.  They  work  in  separate  knots  and  cliques,  as  is  best 
at  present;  one  band  laboring  for  reforms  in  dress  and 
habits  of  life ;  another,  for  freedom  in  the  world  of  labor 
and  commerce  and  art;  another  undertaking  to  obtain 
civil  and  political  rights.  These  are  all  doing  well;  God 
speed  them  every  one.  Yet  there  are  two  other  points 
of  vantage,  one  of  them  already  partially  occupied,  which 
attract  my  more  immediate  and  active  efforts.  The  first 
is  the  field  of  medical  science.  The  primary  question  in 
determining  whether  we  ought  to  work  at  all  in  this  direc- 
tion, is:  What  is  woman  ?  What  are  her  capacities?  To 
what  uses  is  she  best  fitted?  To  show  what  she  can  do, 
is  truly  to  answer  the  question  in  one  way;  but  to  show 
what  God  made  her,  and  with  what  intention  he  so  made 


384  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

her,  is  to  answer  it  in  a  more  direct  and  conclusive  way. 
For  this  answer,  we  must  appeal  to  science. 

"We  must  have  women  thoroughly  educated  concerning 
the  female  organism,  and  its  true  uses;  women  who  shall 
add  to  the  knowledge  already  possessed  by  male  physi- 
cians, a  more  intimate  and  farther-reaching  comprehension 
and  intuition  concerning  the  primal  and  eternal  laws  of 
reproduction,  than  men,  from  the  utter  barrenness  of  their 
experience  in  the  matter,  can  possibly  attain  to.  These 
women  must  be,  not  altogether  physicians  and  nurses, 
though  that  is  incidentally  a  desirable  end;  but  teachers 
in  all  that  relates  to  woman's  great  transcendent  duty,  the 
proper  generation  and  bearing  of  children.  If  the  terrible 
and  murderous  practices  of  married  women  toward  their 
unborn  offspring  are  ever  abolished,  it  must  be  by  throw- 
ing a  flood  of  true  intelligence  upon  the  subject,  through 
all  classes  of  society.  And  this  it  is  the  work  of  women 
to  do.  Nor  is  this  all.  The  alarming  proportion  of  deaths 
among  infants  is  a  reproach  to  the  race;  and  one  which 
will  never  be  removed  till  every  woman  is  so  trained  and 
educated  to  a  proper  knowledge  of  facts  concerning  the 
laws  of  bearing  and  rearing  children,  that  she  shall  be 
able  to  give  her  babes  the  intelligent  care  which  Nature 
demands  of  her  as  the  price  of  their  lives.  A  true  and 
thorough  knowledge  of  all  these  things  is  the  natural  and 
inalienable  Right  of  Woman. 

"And  such  knowledge  can  only  be  secured  to  her 
through  the  persevering  and  well  directed  efforts  of 
women.  No  writer  on  medical  science  ever  yet  had  a 
mother's  experiences ;  knew  the  thousand  and  one  subtile 
links  which  connect  the  forming  soul  with  the  matern  <.l 
life.  The  deep,  absorbing,  infinite  mystery  of  motherhood 
has  been  only  superficially  and  oftentimes  sneeringly 
observed  by  men,  who  looked  upon  it  in  the  main  as 
drudge  work  spared  the  nobler  sex  by  a  beneficent  Provi- 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  385 

dence,  and  branded  all  over  with  marks  of  weakness  and 
ignominy  and  a  fallen  estate.  Science  only  waits  our 
reverent,  trustful  asking  to  refute  all  this;  but  she  will 
never  reveal  these  sacred  secrets  of  womanhood  to  the 
impure,  irreverent  gaze  of  men.  It  is  women  themselves 
who  must  unlock  the  mystery." 

"I  have  long  been  of  the  opinion,"  said  Reba,  "that  the 
sciences  of  medicine,  of  jurisprudence  and  of  theology, 
are  destined  to  receive  a  thorough  re-writing  at  the  hands 
of  enlightened,  conscientious  women.  Men  have  laid  the 
foundation ;  they  have  done  and  are  doing  such  work  as  is 
fitted  to  them,  with  more  or  less  praiseworthy  zeal  and 
fidelity;  but  beyond  this,  there  is  a  range  of  investigation 
and  discovery  which  can  only  be  entered  and  profitably 
worked  by  the  finer  and  more  intuitional  powers  of 
woman." 

"This  very  subject  of  which  we  are  now  speaking  is  a 
case  in  point,"  said  Mrs.  Darrell.  "Physicians  cry  'quack,' 
with  holy  horror,  but  what  is  the  whole  science  of  medi- 
cine, as  applied  to  the  female  constitution,  but  empiricism, 
so  long  as  the  regular  collegiate  teachings  in  this  matter 
are  so  blind  to  the  plainest  facts  and  deductions  concern- 
ing it,  as  every  intelligent  mother  knows  them  to  be.  More 
than  half  the  physicians  one  meets,  all  the  so-called 
conservatives  of  the  profession,  sneer  at  the  idea  of  ante- 
natel  influences  affecting  the  mental  constitution  of  a 
child;  while  the  commonest  facts  in  the  mother's  experience 
are  those  which  go  to  make  up  the  irrefragable  proofs  of 
the  law.  Science  depends  on  facts,  not  on  a  priori 
reasoning,  and  so  long  as  the  testimony  of  enlightened 
women  is  excluded  and  sneered  at,  I  beg  to  know  how 
these  all-wise  gentlemen  are  to  possess  themselves  of  the 
rudiments  of  knowledge  on  the  subject?" 

"But  you  mentioned  another  point,  toward  which  your 
efforts  would  tend.     I  am  eager  to  hear  what  it  is." 
R 


886  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"It  is  the  purification  of  society  from  its  over-mastering 
sin  of  licentiousness.  There  is  great  outcry,  just  now, 
about  prostitution,  as  if  that  were  the  main-spring  of  all 
evil  in  that  direction.  But  prostitution  itself  is  but  an 
effect,  a  more  terrible  and  revolting  one,  it  is  true,  than 
society  at  all  recognizes  as  yet;  but  still  the  legitimate 
and  inevitable  effect  of  that  license  which  the  men  of  all 
ages  have  claimed  concerning  the  indulgence  of  their 
passions.  In  the  early  times,  the  right  of  man  to  make  a 
prey  of  woman  was  unquestioned.  Later  intelligence  has 
had  feeble  suspicions  concerning  the  inherent  and  inalien- 
able nature  of  this  right;  but  men  have  ever  been  ready, 
with  the  most  atrocious  and  blasphemous  falsehoods,  to 
claim  divine  authority  and  sanction  for  the  abomination. 
Physicians  will  even  unblushingly  declare  that  the  God  of 
Purity  and  Truth  has  so  made  the  masculine  portion  of 
the  race,  that  impurity  is  an  actual  necessity  to  their 
physical  well-being;  while  at  the  same  time  they  carefully 
abstain  from  setting  forth  the  undeniable  fact  of  the 
emphatic  and  terrible  seal  of  condemnation  which  he  has 
set  upon  it.  But,  in  these  days,  one  need  go  to  no  physician 
or  medical  text-book  for  the  proof  of  the  penalties  which 
men  invoke  upon  themselves.  Not  only  the  newspapers 
teem  with  them;  but,  in  a  most  literal  s«nse,  the  very 
stones  of  our  walls  and  sidewalks  cry  aloud  with  the  story 
of  their  shame. 

"Now,  while  women  have  always  been  the  prey  and 
victims  of  this  state  of  things,  it  is  also  true  that  but  for 
the  negative  support  which  it  derives  from  their  timidity 
and  silence,  it  could  not  exist  for  a  day.  The  bargain 
seems  to  have  been,  hitherto,  that  if  the  stronger  sex 
would  protect  the  weaker  in  the  practice  of  virtue,  the 
weaker  sex  would  protect  the  stronger  in  the  practice  of 
vice.  All  this  must  be  changed.  As  this  advancing  tide 
of  licentiousness  sweeps  up  into  our  very  homes,  assailing 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  387 

the  honor  and  undermining  the  virtue  of  both  men  and 
women — for  it  has  come  to  that,  that  among  respectable 
women  of  idle  and  luxurious  lives,  not  a  few  of  the 
devotees  of  vice  are  found — women  who  still  stand  fast 
by  honor,  and  truth,  and  humanity,  and  God,  must  cry 
aloud  and  insist  that  not  so  shall  altar  and  fireside  be 
desecrated.  Until  women  shall  display  the  firmness  and 
ihe  moral  courage  necessary  to  this  work,  they  will  not  be 
worthy  of  emancipation,  and  they  surely  will  never  obtain 
it." 

"Mrs.  Darrell,  it  gladdens  my  soul  to  hear  one  woman 
of  your  position  and  influence  talk  in  this  manner;  and  I 
am  all  eagerness  to  know  the  practical  steps  by  which  you 
intend  to  reach  that  pinnacle  of  success  which  I  can  but 
hope  awaits  you." 

"The  first  and  niost  pressing  necessity  is,  it  seems  to 
me,  to  rouse  the  public  mind  to  the  need  of  such  reforms. 
When  I  was  married  I  had  a  portion  of  two  thousand 
dollars,  which,  under  Ralph's  admirable  management,  is 
more  than  quadrupled.  To  this  sum  Ralph  promises  to 
make  a  handsome  addition,  as  soon  as  it  shall  appear  that 
the  practical  prosecution  of  the  work  requires  it.  Our 
children  will  never  miss  it;  or,  if  they  should,  may  be 
better  without  it  than  with  it ;  for  I  can  but  think  that 
a  heritage  of  pure  and  beneficent  living  is  far  better  for 
children  than  much  money.  This  fund,  then,  I  propose 
to  use  for  the  following  purposes:  First,  to  incite  in  our 
Female  Medical  Colleges,  and  throughout  the  medical 
world  generally,  a  more  thorough  study  and  outspoken 
promulgation  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  maternity. 
From  college  professors  all  the  way  down  to  girls  in  their 
teens,  the  light  must  be  thoroughly  transfused  and  made 
practical,  until  the  great  mass  of  women  shall  be  made  to 
feel,  not  only  that  it  is  murder  to  kill  their  children,  but 
that  it  is  also  murder  to  bring  them  into  the  world  under 


388  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

such  conditions  that  there  is  only  one  chance  in  a  dozen 
of  their  reaching  maturity.  The  cry  of  the  innocents  has 
gone  up  to  heaven,  and  I  feel  in  my  soul  that  God  will 
not  much  longer  delay  the  answer  to  it." 

"I  like  your  plan  heartily.  Women  have  long  enough 
given  money  to  endow  colleges  for  young  men.  It  is  quite, 
time  they  began  to  do  something  for  their  own  sex.  More- 
over, when  women  become  enlightened  concerning  the 
significance  and  sacredness  of  their  peculiar  functions, 
they  will  no  longer  be  the  easy  prey  of  licentious  men, 
which  they  too  often  are  at  present;  and  by  that  very 
means  men  will  learn  in  time  to  regard  them  with  alto- 
gether a  deeper  respect." 

"That  is  very  true.  It  is  the  well  armed  man  whom 
robbers  never  attack,  and  the  libertine  is  equally  cowardly. 
There  was  a  time  when  I  was  half  disposed  to  found  a 
Magdalen  Asylum,  but  a  little  reflection  taught  me  that, 
while  these  institutions  are  excellent  in  their  way,  and 
ought  by  all  means  to  be  encouraged,  they  do  not,  after  all, 
strike  at  the  root  of  the  evil.  To  attempt  to  stay  the 
desolating  effects  of  man's  sensuality  by  means  of  such 
appliances,  is  like  trying  to  dip  up  the  ocean  with  a  tea- 
spoon. The  remedy  must  go  deeper,  and  purify  the  nature 
of  the  man  himself,  till  he  shall  learn  to  see  in  woman  a 
being  whom  his  own  best  interests  require  him  to  revere 
and  not  profane.  In  almost  all  our  large  cities  there  are 
good  women  at  work  among  the  abandoned  of  their 
own  sex.  These  women  learn,  from  day  to  day,  the 
most  appalling  facts  concerning  the  hideous  depravity 
of  society  in  regard  to  licentiousness.  They  must  be 
brought  to  speak  aloud  and  shock  the  world,  if  need  be, 
with  a  knowledge  of  its  hidden  sins.  Then,  and  not  till 
then,  will  a  united,  persevering,  and  irresistible  effort  be 
brought  to  bear  upon  this  gigantic  evil.  Reports  must  be 
made,  publications  circulated,  facts  given,  and  the  whole 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  389 

subject  thoroughly  exposed  to  the  public  view.  Truly  is 
'Mystery  the  mother  of  harlots,  and  of  the  abominations 
of  the  earth.'  And  when  the  apocalyptic  vision  shall  be 
realized,  and  this  woman  in  scarlet  smitten  from  her  high 
pre-eminence,  the  dawn  of  a  purer  era  will  truly  begin." 

"Mrs.  Darrell,  this  plan  provides  for  the  use  of  your 
money.  What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  your  mental  power, 
which,  it  seems  to  me,  is  an  equally  responsible  gift?" 

"Employ  it  whenever  and  wherever,  whether  in  public 
or  private  appeals,  I  can  make  it  available.  I  have  not 
the  literary  experience  necessary  to  enable  me  to  write  a 
book;  but  I  can,  perhaps,  manage  newspaper  articles,  and 
these  I  shall  attempt,  not  with  any  idea  of  winning  fame, 
but  with  the  sole  motive  of  stirring  up  public  thought. 
There  are  too  many  educated  women  who  neglect  their 
duty  hi  this  respect,  I  think.  Who  would  be  free,  them- 
selves must  strike  the  blow!  Our  battle-field  is  as  wide 
as  the  world.  Let  every  woman,  standing  in  the  place 
whereto  God  has  called  her,  use  whatever  power  she  has, 
steadily,  earnestly,  unflinchingly,  and  the  result  will  soon 
be  felt  upon  the  world  at  large." 

"In  appealing  to  men,  in  the  mass,  I  think  we  feel 
instinctively  that  they  are  selfish,  and  mostly  accessible  by 
means  of  arguments  addressed  to  their  self-interest.  But 
it  seems  to  me  that  the  strongest  appeal  which  can  be 
made  to  unselfish,  womanly  natures,  is  the  good  which 
they  have  it  in  their  power  to  bestow  upon  the  race.  Why, 
there  are  a  thousand  abuses  which  would  slink  away  like 
thieves  at  daylight,  before  the  influence  of  free,  humane, 
enlightened  Womanhood.  Politics  would  become  a  busi- 
ness fit  for  respectable  men  to  engage  in;  our  criminal 
courts  would  cease  to  be  the  theater  of  foul  wranglings 
and  obscene  personalities;  our  police  courts,  instead  of 
administering  a  mockery  of  justice  to  the  ignorant  and 
debased,  serving  no  earthly  purpose  but  to  sink  those  vile 


890  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

wretches  into  still  deeper  depths  of  abasement,  would 
radiate  an  enlightened  charity.  No  man  in  his  senses  can 
imagine  a  decent  woman  sitting  in  such  a  stench  of  filth 
and  iniquity,  without  crying  aloud  and  raising  the  town 
for  reform.  There  would  be  tenant-houses  built,  fit  for 
beings  with  souls  in  them  to  inhabit;  and  I  even  cherish 
the  faint  hope  that  the  time  would  eventually  come  when 
brothels  would  cease  to  be  a  necessary  evil,  and  the  heca- 
tombs of  innocent  women,  now  yearly  sacrificed  on  the 
altars  of  man's  lust,  would  be  spared  to  be  useful  members 
of  society." 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Darrell,  it  is  a  positive  pleasure  to  hear 
you  talk  in  this  way;  independently  of  what  you  say, 
your  eyes  do  brighten  up  so,  your  cheek  gets  such  a 
glorious  color,  and  there  is  every  way  such  a  seeming  of 
strength  about  you.  1  should  like  to  see  the  man  who, 
looking  at  you  this  moment,  would  dare  to  think  of  your 
forty -five  years,  and  sneer  at  you  as  an  old  woman." 

"Ah !  my  dear,  the  strength  is  not  in  me ;  it  is  in  the 
cause.  I  suppose,  if  the  most  insignificant  man  were  to 
grasp  the  thunderbolt  of  Jove,  he  would  become  in  that 
moment  sublime.  For  the  rest,  I  thank  God  that,  if  He 
spares  my  life,  I  have  yet  twenty  years  of  usefulness  before 
me,  during  which  time  I  trust  He  will  save  me  from  the 
fate  of  sitting  in  the  chimney-corner,  knitting  blue  yarn 
stockings,  and  fretting  at  my  grandchildren.  Women 
have  inventive  minds,  and  when  they  have  been  released 
by  age  from  the  more  confining  duties  of  the  home,  the 
more  active  of  them  have  sought  out  many  ways  of 
employing  themselves ;  but  it  has  been  a  great  loss  to  the 
world,  that  so  many  others  have  been  compelled  to  spend 
the  remainder  of  their  days  in  a  slow  process  of  rusting 
out.  The  woman  who  has  borne  and  reared  a  family,  has 
a  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  of  the  ways  and  means 
best  adapted  to  control  and  influence  it,  which  few  men 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  391 

possess ;  and  with  her  mind  broadened,  and  set  free  from 
prejudice  by  an  outlook  upon  public  affairs,  she  might  do 
inestimable  service  in  the  world.  It  is  by  no  means  an 
anomaly  that  the  best  political  economist  of  the  age  is  also 
the  foremost  advocate  of  the  political  enfranchisement  of 
M-oman." 

"  It  has  sometimes  seemed  to  me  that  Christianity  itself 
waited  to  receive  its  grandest  development  at  the  hands 
of  emancipated  woman,"  said  Reba.  "Its  sole  essential 
elements  are  love  and  faith,  and  so  long  as  masculine 
influences  control  the  world,  these  can  never  be  perfectly 
asserted  and  made  operative.  But  it  is  the  nature  of 
woman  to  love  and  to  trust.  Whenever,  therefore,  the 
influence  of  women  predominates  in  the  world's  affairs, 
Christianity  will  find  its  earthly  home  scarcely  less  con- 
genial than  its  heavenly  one." 

"Ah !  Reba,  humanity  is  the  flower  of  the  ages,  of  which 
the  calyx  is  formed  first,  and  holds,  in  long  and  dark 
imprisonment,  its  inmost  charm.  But  it  is  destined  at 
last  to  part  its  bonds  under  the  pressure  of  the  inward 
expansion,  and  hold  up  to  the  Sun  of  the  Universe  the 
ineffable  beauty  of  the  perfected  blossom.  In  this  belief 
only,  can  the  age-long  tyranny  of  man,  the  deep,  unspeakable 
agony  of  women,  from  the  creation  till  these  later  times, 
be  justified  as  the  dispensation  of  a  righteous  God.  The 
bitter  tears  of  subjection,  the  heart-throes  of  anguish,  borne 
in  silence,  concealed  from  all  the  world,  were  the  needed 
dew  to  water  hidden  virtues;  the  proper  noimshment  for 
that  divine  germ  which,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  should  burst 
forth,  the  crowning  joy,  and  grace,  and  glory  of  the  world." 

The  remark  touched  a  sensitive  chord  in  Reba's  heart, 
and  impelled  her,  as  deep  feeling  always  did,  to  silence. 

The  new  bent  of  Mrs.  Darrell's  life  was  not  long  in 
getting  noised  abroad.  Of  course  she  met,  as  she  had 
expected  to  meet,  opposition  from  various  quarters;  some 


<jy2  A  WOMAN  S    SECRET. 

of  it  amusing,  and  some  touching  the  deeper  chord  of  sad- 
ness. Among  others,  Mr.  Linscott  was  seriously  shocked. 
The  county  paper  was  published  in  Wyndham,  and  a 
vigorous  article  in  it,  on  the  duty  of  woman  toward 
reform,  which  he  was  certain  could  be  attributed  to  no 
other  pen  than  Mrs.  Darrell's,  irritated  him  so  much,  that 
he  harnessed  his  horse  at  once,  and  drove  over  to  Wynd- 
ham. He  commenced  his  argument  with  Mrs.  Darrell,  by 
assuring  her  of  the  deep  respect  he  entertained  for  her,  a 
respect  fortified  by  her  years,  her  capacities,  her  position 
in  the  world ;  and  of  the  great  grief  which  her  recent 
action  had  caused  him. 

Laura  listened  to  him  patiently,  plead  an  imposition  of 
conscience  as  her  main  defense,  and  received,  in  return, 
the  charge  of  an  offense  against  the  proprieties. 

"My  dear  cousin,"  said  Mr.  Linscott,  emphatically,  "it 
is  not  for  ladies  to  lift  swine  out  of  the  mire." 

"  Mr.  Linscott,"  was  Laura's  firm  reply,  "  if  so  many 
women  were  not  compelled  to  live  with  the  swine,  in  the 
mire,  the  case  might  be  different.  As  it  is,  I  do  not  see 
how  any  woman  of  leisure  and  capacity  can  possibly 
escape  the  responsibility  of  doing  what  she  can,  be  it 
more  or  less  toward  crying  out,  that  there  is  a  mire,  and 
setting  forward  the  work  of  releasing  its  millions  of  willing 
and  unwilling  victims.  For  my  own  part,  I  do  not  in  the 
least  fear  but  what,  if  my  hands  go  into  the  work  pure, 
they  will  come  out  of  it  pure.  There  is  a  vileness  which 
no  woman  can  touch  without  being  contaminated ;  but  it 
is  one  which  enters  into  the  heart,  not  one  which  the  pure 
heart  goes  out  to  overcome." 

But  Mr.  Linscott  was  hopelessly  fossilized.  He  had  so 
long  believed  in  the  absolute  inferiority  of  woman  and  her 
rightful  subjection  to  the  will,  or  avarice,  or  lust,  or  what- 
ever else  might  happen  to  be  the  ruling  principle  of  the 
man;  had  for  so  many  years  failed  to  see  the  breadth  and 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  393 

scope  of  that  manliness  which  is  greater  than  kingliness, 
and  to  which  the  heart  and  understanding  of  woman  are 
ever  so  truly  and  so  gladly  loyal,  that  the  new  direction  of 
things  seemed  altogether  Avrong  to  him.  He  could  not 
comprehend  it. 

"  I  have  always  thought,  cousin  Laura,"  he  said,  vaguely, 
"  that  you  were  a  happy  wife." 

"  I  have  had  my  own  trials,"  was  Laura's  reply,  "  as  all 
women  have,  and  all  men  also;  but  I  have  been  in  the  main 
most  happy  in  my  domestic  relations.  The  best  strength 
in  my  arm  and  heart,  to-day,  next  to  the  inherent  strength 
of  a  great,  good  cause,  is  drawn  from  my  husband's  loving 
sympathy  and  companionship.  He  is  to  me  as  base  to 
pinnacle;  and  no  womanhood  can  be  firm  and  noble,  and 
point  with  steady  truth  to  heaven,  that  is  not  in  some  way 
supported  by  a  broad,  solid,  truth-loving  and  truth-living 
manhood.  That  is  why,  Mr.  Linscott,  I  would  have  every 
true  man  and  true  woman  cry  out  against  the  errors  and 
vices  which,  handed  down  from  remote  ages,  to-day 
so  restrict  and  stultify  the  growth  of  the  race.  I  would 
have  the  free  spirits  of  all  Christendom  band  themselves 
together,  to  secure  for  the  race  a  wise,  strong,  pure  man- 
hood, and  a  tender,  loving,  pure  womanhood ;  and  until 
each  and  every  Christian  is  willing  so  to  labor,  according 
to  his  opportunities  and  abilities,  I  do  not  see  how  he  can 
consistently  pray,  "Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy  will  be  done, 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven ! ' " 

Mr.  Linscott  turned  away  with  a  heavy  heart,  to  mourn 
over  the  degeneracy  and  willfulness  of  the  present  evil 
times ;  to  declare  that  the  world  grew  worse  with  every 
generation,  forgetting  the  fact,  that  year  by  year  it  is 
drawing  nearer  to  that  glorious  time  foretold  from  the 
beginning,  when  all  shall  know  the  Lord,  from  the  least  to 
the  greatest;  and  how  can  we  'know  the  Father,'  except 
we 'do  His  will?'" 


394  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET, 


XXXVIII. 

OUR   BEST    SOCIETY. 

Mr.  Linscott  was  married  early  in  June.  At  the  last 
moment,  Miss  Ridalhuber  succeeded  in  convincing  hirn 
that  his  health  was  suffering  from  excessive  activity  in  his 
pastorate,  and  that  a  week  at  the  Springs  was  the  only 
thing  which  would  restore  him.  By  which  means  her 
prediction  was  verified,  and  they  did  go  to  Saratoga  011 
their  wedding  tour. 

It  was  quite  late  in  the  month  before  they  returned  to 
Jericho.  The  event  reminded  Mrs.  Darrell  of  "the  duty 
she  owed  to  society;"  which,  now-a-days,  has  come  to 
mean,  not  justice,  nor  mercy,  nor  yet  hospitality,  but  is 
all  summed  up  in  the  operation  of  giving  a  great  party. 
Therefore,  the  Darrell  mansion  was  astir  with  prepara- 
tion. Cards  were  issued  by  hundreds  ;  refreshments  were 
provided  on  a  grand  scale;  the  whole  house  was  put  in 
readiness  for  invasion,  and  throughout  the  region  round- 
about, dress-making  assumed  the  form  of  an  epidemic. 

The  long  expected  day  at  length  arrived.  Rebecca  had 
remained  at  home,  to  assist  in  the  final  preparations,  and 
at  dusk,  leaving  the  wide  suite  of  reception  rooms  lying  in 
fresh,  cool  and  flower-scented  readiness,  waiting  only  for 
lights  to  emblazon  their  silence  and  elegant  repose,  she 
went  into  the  dining-room  to  get  a  cup  of  coffee,  intending 
thereafter  to  retire  to  her  own  room  for  an  hour's  rest. 
before  dressing. 

All  day  there  had  been  a  stir  of  anticipation,  partly 
pleasant,  partly  painful,  in  Reba's  mind.  She  knew  that 
Mr.  Gladstone  had  been  invited,  and  had  written  to  say 
that  he  should  come,  if  it  were  possible.  She  had  received, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  395 

as  yet,  no  news  of  his  arrival  in  the  town,  but  there  was  an 
afternoon  train ;  and,  spite  of  herself,  when  she  had  heard 
the  distant  whistle,  which  announced  it,  her  hands  had 
faltered,  and  the  flowers  she  was  arranging  had  well  nigh 
slipped  from  her  grasp.  But  the  occupation  of  the  day 
had  helped  to  preserve  her  mental  balance.  "With  this 
suspense  and  anxiety  deepening  every  moment  upon  her, 
she  dreaded  to  be  alone.  "Unless  I  can  calm  myself 
now,"  she  said,  "how  can  I  meet  him  in  the  face  of  all 
these  people,  and  maintain  the  proper  composure."  Every 
moment,  her  chances  for  getting  through  the  evening 
creditably,  and  without  attracting  attention,  seemed  to 
grow  fainter. 

As  she  stood  sipping  her  coffee,  the  doctor  entered  the 
room.  His  face  was  very  grave,  but  it  nevertheless 
cheered  her.  That  grand,  solid,  substantial  manhood 
carried  reassurance  in  its  very  atmosphere.  After  a  few 
minutes'  chat,  he  said,  in  his  kindest  manner : 

"  I  was  down  town  to  see  the  train  come  in,  this  after- 
noon. I  met  a  friend  of  yours  there." 

Reba  turned  very  pale,  and  grasped  the  back  of  a  chair 
for  support. 

"  It  isn't  worth  while  to  get  excited,  Rebecca,"  said  the 
doctor,  slowly.  "  Mr.  Gladstone  has  come  home,  and  will 
be  here  to-night.  His  brother,  Peyton  Clavering,  he  calls 
himself  now,  will  be  with  him,  I  suppose.  - 1  saw  them 
both,  and  heard  Mr.  Darrell  ask  Clavering  to  come.  It 
isn't  worth  while  to  get  excited  about  these  things.  We 
shall  get  through  the  party  well  enough.  You  look  tired 
and  nervous.  You  must  take  a  few  drops ;  I'll  send  some 
up  to  your  room  ;  they're  simple,  they  won't  hurt  you ;  and 
you  must  keep  a  stiff  upper  lip,  Rebecca;  keep  —  a — stiff 
upper — lip.  There  won't  be  any  trouble,  /shall  be  there. 
I  shall  be  there." 

When  Reba  heard  the  name  of  Peyton  Clavering,  her 


396  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

head  swam,  and  the  earth  seemed  to  be  slipping  from 
under  her  feet.  But  the  doctor's  steady  voice  exercised 
a  magnetic  power  over  her,  and  by  the  time  he  had  finished 
speaking,  she  was  able  to  falter  a  few  grateful  words,  to 
which  her  eyes  added  a  mute  emphasis. 

The  doctor  took  her  outstretched  hand,  and  pressed  it 
gravely,  and  then  walked  away  with  a  deep,  deep  sorrow- 
fulness at  his  heart. 

"  What  is  to  be  done,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  don't  know. 
Clavering  is  a  man,  and  Rebecca  is  a  woman ;  the  little 
world  of  Wyndham,  like  the  great  world  outside  of  it,  will 
uphold  him  in  crime,  and  frown  upon  her  in  misfortune. 
It  isn't  right,  but  that  is  the  way  of  the  world  ;  the — way 
of —  the —  world." 

It  would  be  useless  to  try  to  analyze  Reba's  feelings  for 
the  next  hour.  For  a  time  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  could 
never  face  the  world  again ;  that  life,  in  the  future,  was 
wrung  dry,  for  her,  of  every  drop  of  joy ;  that  only  death 
could  bring  that  sweet  release  from  pain,  which  was  all  the 
boon  she  craved.  How  the  soul  struggles  through  such 
crises,  only  God  knows.  Perhaps  it  is  not  the  soul  which 
frees  itself  from  those  depths,  fathomless  to  all  human 
measurement,  but  divine  strength  which  bears  it  safely  on. 
Somehow,  at  the  last  moment,  Reba  came  to  feel  this,  to 
trust  again  the  Unseen  Arm;  to  see,  in  some  dim,  blind 
way,  the  littleness  of  our  earthly  trials,  as  compared  with 
infinite  strength  and  wisdom. 

"  Peyton  Clavering  is  only  a  man,"  she  said.  "My 
father  is  God,  and  I  will  trust  Him  yet." 

She  dressed  herself  deliberately,  and  with  an  unconscious 
purpose  of  pleasing.  Perhaps  she  herself  could  not  have 
told  whether  it  was  the  melting  eye  of  love,  or  the  cool, 
critical  glance  of  disdain  which  foreshadowed  itself  most 
clearly  to  her  mind,  and  proved  her  most  effectual  stimu- 
lant. Certainly,  when  she  had  shaken  out  the  folds  of  a 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  391 

lovely  white  grenadine,  over  which  floated  a  scarf  of  finely 
wrought  black  lace,  and  twined  a  wreath  of  blue  convol- 
volus  in  her  hair,  and  taken  in  her  hand  her  lace  pocket- 
handkerchief  and  the  exquisite  bouquet  which  the  doctor 
had  gallantly  sent  to  her  room,  she  had  never,  even  in  the 
palmy  days  of  her  youth,  looked  more  sweetly. 

When  she  reached  the  drawing-rooms,  the  guests  had 
already  begun  to  assemble  ;  and,  at  Mrs.  Darrell's  request, 
she  assisted  in  receiving  them.  She  had  a  presentiment, 
strengthened,  perhaps,  by  knowledge  long  ago  acquired, 
that  the  guests  whom  she  awaited  with  so  much  anxiety, 
would  be  late ;  and  at  ten  o'clock,  when  the  arrivals  were 
getting  few  and  irregular,  she  withdrew  into  the  shadow 
of  a  bay  window,  where  she  could  get  a  waft  of  out-door 
air,  and  divest  herself  of  all  traces  of  heat  and  agitation. 
Perhaps,  too,  she  had  selected  that  spot  for  her  retirement, 
because  it  afforded  her  a  glimpse  of  the  hall,  and  an  oppor- 
tunity to  guard  against  surprise.  She  had  not  long  to 
wait.  For  some  reason  she  missed  the  moment  of  entrance, 
and  heard  first  the  low  murmur  which  announced  the 
appearance  of  Mr.  Gladstone.  As  she  looked  up,  the  two 
gentlemen,  both  tall,  handsome,  distinguished;  the  one 
fair,  with  a  frank,  open  countenance,  the  other  dark,  with 
an  eye  lustrous  and  piercing ;  the  one  in  attire,  simply  a 
well  dressed  gentleman,  the  other  a  faultlessly  elegant  man 
of  the  world,  advanced  up  the  room  to  meet  their  hostess. 

It  was  to  Reba  a  moment  of  curious  sensations ;  but, 
thanks  to  the  doctor's  warning,  and  perhaps,  in  a  smaller 
degree,  to  the  potent  virtue  of  the  drops,  she  was  able  not 
only  to  restrain  all  external  manifestations  of  them,  but 
in  a  dazed  way  to  note  the  appearance  of  those  around 
her.  Mr.  Clavering  produced,  as  he  always  did,  with  that 
handsome  face  and  courtly  bearing,  a  decided  impression. 
The  younger  portion  of  the  party  seemed  quite  over- 
powered by  his  presence,  but  Reba  felt  certain  that  among 


oy»  A  WOMAN  S    SECRET. 

the  elders  she  could  distinguish  a  slight  reserve  of  manner, 
as  if  certain  old  prejudices  existed  in  their  minds  not  easily 
forgotten,  and  which  even  this  imposing  man  of  the  world 
might  find  it  difficult  to  overcome.  More  than  ever  was 
she  convinced  of  this,  when,  having  paid  the  customary 
respect  to  Mrs.  Darrell,  they  turned  away  to  greet  old 
acquaintances.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  met  everywhere  with 
the  open  hand  and  hearty  welcome;  for  his  brother  there 
was  an  abatement  of  cordiality  and  a  reticence  of  manner 
which  he  could  not  fail  to  perceive.  But,  apparently,  this 
did  not  in  the  least  disconcert  him.  He  was  very  quiet 
and  exceedingly  well-bred,  there  was  no  doubting  that; 
and  in  his  secret  heart  felt  that  with  such  resources  as  he 
always  had  at  command,  the  prejudices  of  these  simple 
provincial  people  were  matters  for  his  scorn  rather  than 
his  serious  regret.  Still,  if  he  was  to  settle  in  Wyndham, 
as  he  now  intended  to  do,  it  might  be  well  enough  to  show 
the  "best  society"  of  the  place  how  easily  he  could  disarm 
them.  He  was,  of  course,  speedily  presented  to  Mrs. 
Linscott.  In  an  instant  he  felt  his  footing  secure  under 
him.  A  few  minutes'  chat  with  her,  revealed  to  her  prac- 
ticed eye  his  superior  accomplishments  of  mind  and  person, 
and  the  immense  social  prestige  which  he  must  wield  wher- 
ever he  moved.  Mr.  Linscott,  watching  the  protracted 
conversation,  grew  a  shade  uneasy. 

"My  dear,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  her  away  under  pretense 
of  introducing  an  old  friend  whom  she  had  not  yet  met, 
"my  dear,  Mr.  Clavering  is  all  very  well  as  an  acquaintance, 
but  there  are  some  sad  stories  afloat  about  him.  I  should 
be  sorry  to  see  you  cultivate  him." 

The  bride  looked  up  into  the  adoring  face  of  her  husband 
and  murmured,  with  such  a  tender  grace, 

" «  Alas  for  the  rarity 
Of  Christian  charity 
Under  the  sun.' 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  399 

"If  such  a  charming  man  as  Mr.  Clavering,  and  so  at* 
fait  to  the  best  society,  is  not  amenable  to  Christian 
mercy,  I  cannot  imagine  who  would  be.  All  men,  but  you, 
are  liable  to  little  lapses,  you  know." 

Whether  the  shade  of  Thomas  Hood  would  have  relished 
that  quotation,  I  cannot  say;  but  Mr.  Linscott  was  van- 
quished, and  before  the  evening  was  over,  his  submissive 
wife  was  hanging  on  Mr.  Clavering's  arm,  listening  with 
evident  delight  to  his  honeyed  speeches. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Clavering,  quite  satisfied  with  his  success 
in  that  quarter,  had  already  singled  out  the  next  victim  of 
his  ambitious  social  designs.  This  was  the  stout  dowager 
of  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  respectable  families  in  the 
county.  Five  minutes  of  respectful  compliment,  and  charm- 
ingly ready  memories  of  her  early  triumphs  in  society,  and 
admiration  of  her  daughters — present  this  evening,  and 
quite  radiant  to  their  mother's  eyes  in  back  hair  and  pearl 
powder  and  glass  beads  —  fastened  her  to  his  chariot 
wheels,  and  he  already  felt  his  triumph  secure. 

"As  for  this  bevy  of  young  girls,"  he  inly  said,  "  once  1 
get  among  them,  the  only  danger  will  be  that  I  shall  be 
crushed  by  their  attentions.  But,  ye  gods!  who  is  that  in 
the  white  grenadine,  yonder?" 

"He  stepped  back  into  the  shadow,  and  surveyed  Reba 
long  and  critically. 

"Humph!"  he  said,  one  must  move  cautiously." 

Appealing  to  his  friend,  the  dowager,  he  asked : 

"  Can  you  inform  me,  madam,  who  is  that  young  woman 
in  white,  just  opposite?  I  don't  recollect  to  have  seen  her 
in  Wyndham  before." 

"  That ;  ah  !  that  is  Miss  Reba  March,  a  great  friend  of 
Mrs.  Darrell;  she  lives  in  the  family.  It  is  strange  you 
hav'n't  been  introduced." 

"A  relative  of  Mrs.  Darrell,  did  I  understand  yon?" 

i%Oh,  no,   not  in  the  least;  quite  a  stranger;    indeed, 


400  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

between  ourselves,  too  much  of  a  stranger,  some  of  us 
thought  at  first,  since  nobody  knows  anything  whatever 
of  hei-  antecedents.  But  Mrs.  Darrell  was  very  deter- 
mined, and  we've  all  been  forced  to  give  way;  she  is  really 
quite  popular  in  society." 

How  much  more  the  dowager  might  have  said  will  never 
be  known,  for  at  this  moment  the  doctor,  who  had  not  been 
an  uninterested  observer  of  Mr.  Clavering's  progress,  ad- 
vanced to  speak  to  him,  and  interrupted  the  conversation. 

Mr.  Clavering  replied  to  the  doctor's  cool  greeting  with 
rather  more  than  his  usual  impressment.  He  remembered 
the  doctor  as  one  of  the  powers  of  Wyndham,  and  had, 
besides,  some  personal  reason  for  respecting  him;  but, 
after  the  first  few  minutes'  chat,  he  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  going  back  to  the  subject  which  just  now 
engrossed  him.  If  anybody  knew  anything  about  this 
woman  it  would  certainly  be  the  doctor. 

"This  young  prote*g£  of  Mrs.  DarreH's,  of  whom  I  was 
just  speaking  to  Mrs.  Graves,  is  very  interesting.  I  think 
Mrs.  Graves  said  she  was  a  relative." 

"No,"  said  the  doctor,  in  his  emphatic  way,  "  she  is  not 
a  relative,  but  she  is  a  person  whom  we  respect — whom  we 
very  much  respect.  She  has  been  of  great  assistance  to 
Mrs.  Darrell,  and  Laura  always  expects  her  to  be  treated 
as  her  best  friend.  We — don't — allow  —  anybody — to — 
slight — Rebecca." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Clavering,  gayly,  "for  putting  me 
on  my  guard.  But,  doctor,  really,  your  enthusiasm  about 
this  young  lady  has  a  suspicious  look.  You  didn't  use  to 
favor  the  young  ladies  of  my  time  with  such  emphatic 
praise." 

"  The  young  ladies  of  your  time  were  not  very  different 
from  the  majority  of  young  ladies  at  this  time,  except, 
perhaps,  in  the  matter  of  back  hair.  There  is  a  great  rage 
for  back  hair  just  now." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  401 

"The  fashions  now-a-days  do  certainly  provoke  the 
suspicion  that  the  ladies  carry  more  on  the  outside  of 
their  heads  than  on  the  inside.  The  effect,  on  an  exile 
like  myself  coming  suddenly  upon  them,  is  rather 
appalling." 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor,  "there  may  be  a  doubt  whether 
there  isn't  as  much  brains  in  back  hair,  as  there  is  character 
in  a  rattan  cane,  or  religion  in  a  white  neckcloth.  There 
may  be  a  question  about  it,  I  think." 

"Really,  doctor,  your  devotion  to  the  fair  sex  certainly 
is  suspicious.  I  must  think  that  this  unknown  is  exercis- 
ing a  more  potent  influence  over  you  than  any  of  her  peers 
have  been  able  to  do." 

"Rebecca  has  good  sense,"  said  the  doctor.  "She  isn't 
over  eager  to  follow  the  fashions,  especially  if  they  are 
ridiculous  ones.  It  is  not  only  good  sense,  but  it  is 
womanly  delicacy  that  makes  her  averse  to  startling  effects 
in  dress.  It  seems  to  me  that  real  delicacy  is  not  so  much 
a  female  trait  as  it  used  to  be." 

"Very  likely  not,"  said  Mr.  Clavering,  indifferently. 

The  doctor  walked  away,  leaving  precisely  the  impres- 
sion upon  Mr.  Clavering's  mind  which  he  had  designed  to 
do. 

"It  is  really  serious  with  the  doctor,"  thought  Clavering. 
"I  should  be  sorry  to  disarrange  any  of  his  little  plans, 
but  if  I  find  this  old  town  as  slow  as  it  used  to  be,  I  may 
be  obliged  to  enforce  a  prior  claim  to  the  property.  What 
a  cool  way  the  little  sinner  has  of  going  about  the  rooms 
without  seeing  me.  I  wonder  if  she  thinks  I  am  always 
to  be  ignored  in  that  way.  If  she  provokes  me  too  much, 
I  may  let  the  light  in  on  the  doctor  rather  sooner  than 
would  tally  with  her  plans.  All  in  good  time.  Let  us  be 
circumspect." 

A  half-dozen   young  ladies  were   grouped   around  the 
piano,  and  the  musical  display  of  the  evening  was  well 
R2 


402  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

under  way.  There  was  a  little  flutter  among  this  group 
when,  during  a  pause  in  the  music,  Mr.  Clavering 
approached  them.  Women  are  falsely  accused  by  meii 
who  see  only  the  surface  of  things,  of  preferring  the 
society  of  libertines.  The  truth  is,  that  women  do 
infinitely  prefer  the  society  of  men  who  understand  them, 
and  who  use  a  knowledge  of  their  accessible  points  with 
tact  and  skill.  In  the  present  state  of  society,  men  of 
this  description  mostly  are  loose  and  immoral  in  their 
lives,  because  men  are  so  constituted  that  they  must  see 
some  very  obvious  interest  to  be  subserved,  before  they 
will  devote  themselves  in  just  this  self-forgetting  way  to 
women.  Therefore,  it  often  happens  that  the  selfish 
seeker  after  unlawful  pleasure  is  the  man  most  pleasing 
to  unreflecting  women.  This  was  especially  true  of  a 
man  so  accomplished  as  Mr.  Clavering.  He  had  graces 
and  artifices  at  his  command  sufficient  to  turn  the  heads 
of  nineteen  out  of  twenty  of  the  girls  he  met.  In  provin- 
cial Wyndham  he  would  scarcely  have  thought  it  worth 
his  while  to  exercise  these  charms,  if  he  had  not  known, 
what  those  good  men  who  belittle  female  influence  are 
too  stupid  to  reflect  upon,  or,  perhaps,  too  self-confident 
to  care  for,  that  each  one  of  these  young  women  might  be 
of  use  to  him  in  establishing  himself  in  the  good  graces 
of  the  Wyndhamites.  "Let  me  have  the  women  of  the 
town  in  my  favor,"  was  the  sentiment  of  this  man  of 
experience,  "  and  I  can  afford  to  snap  my  fingers  in  the 
faces  of  the  men."  And  so  shining  out  in  his  most 
attractive  luster,  he  was  not  long  in  revealing  himself  as 
a  hero  to  the  eyes  of  these  girls.  He  moved  among  them 
so  fearlessly;  he  had  such  deft  ways  of  turning  music 
leaves,  and  arranging  drapery;  he  looked  into  each 
separate  young  lady's  eyes  with  a  glance  so  delicately 
expressive  of  consciously  superior  knowledge,  yet,  at  the 
same  time,  of  chivalrous  admiration  and  respect.  If  a 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  403 

young  performer  were  timid,  he  smoothed  all  her  little 
difficulties  with  an  easy  grace,  which  at  once  inspired  her 
with  confidence  and  made  her  feel  eternally  grateful  to 
him ;  if  another  were  confident,  he  shared  her  assurance 
and  bowed  to  her  with  a  practiced  air  of  gallantry  and 
savoir  faire  that  was  a  compliment  in  itself.  It  was 
small  wonder  that  Mr.  Claveriug  was  a  lion  in  society. 

Presently  some  one  called  on  Miss  March  to  sing.  Mr. 
Clavering's  eye  followed  the  call  with  deep  interest.  Reba 
was  perfectly  aware  of  the  situation  at  the  piano,  and  of 
the  trial  which  awaited  her  if  she  responded  to  the  invita- 
tion. For  a  moment  she  grew  a  little  pale,  and  hesitated. 
Mr.  Clavering's  eye  sparkled  with  triumph,  and  he  stepped 
forward  with  an  audacity  quite  easy  to  him,  and  was 
about  to  offer  to  conduct  her  to  the  instrument.  He  was 
a  moment  too  late.  The  doctor  was  bowing  before  her 
with  offered  arm.  Reba  looked  up,  gratefully,  and  saw  in 
the  doctor's  eye  that  it  was  wisdom  for  her  to  overcome 
her  fears.  With  that  stately  column  of  strength  beside 
her,  it  was  not  so  very  difficult  to  do;  and  when  the 
doctor,  with  a  good  deal  more  than  his  usual  gallantry  of 
bearing,  had  seated  her  at  the  piano,  and  stood  beside  her 
ready  to  turn  the  music,  she  felt  perfectly  self-possessed, 
and  sang  with  a  clear  and  steady  voice. 

Mr.  Clavering's  quick  eye  took  in  at  a  glance  the  deepest 
meaning  of  the  scene.  He  was  enraged  at  any  power 
which  should  enable  this  delicate  woman,  whose  whole 
destiny  had  once  been  in  his  hands  to  make  or  to  mar, 
even  while  he  knew  that  she  held  the  inner  fortress  of  her 
soul  impregnably  against  him,  to  face  him  with  even  an 
assumed  independence  of  his  will.  He  knew  what  this 
thing  called  human  justice  is.  He  knew  that,  while  he 
had  committed  against  her  the  basest  sin,  and  that  with 
the  most  aggravating  concomitants,  and  her  whole  life  had 
been  pure  of  any  crime  against  the  laws  of  God  01-  man, 


404  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

it  was  still  his  manly  prerogative  to  face  the  exposition 
of  these  facts  with  a  cool,  satanic  triumph,  and  her 
womanly  doom  to  be  filled  with  ineffable  terror  and 
dismay.  He  gnashed  his  teeth  to  feel  that  even  for  this 
fleeting  moment  she  should  dare  look  a  disagreement  to 
these  conditions.  The  song  was  not  finished  before  his 
resolution  was  taken. 

As  she  struck  the  final  chords,  he  laid  his  white  hands 
together  and  gallantly  applauded. 

"Miss  March,"  he  said,  with  his  most  deferential  air, 
"your  voice,  charming  as  it  is  in  ballads,  has  still,  I  per- 
ceive, a  wider  compass.  I  don't  doubt  you  sing  opera?" 

She  met  his  eye  with  cool  composure,  and  slightly  bowed 
her  head.  He  held  the  music  of  "Robert,  toi  que  faime" 
in  his  hand. 

"May  I  beg  that  you  will  favor  us?"  he  asked  as  he 
arranged  the  music  on  the  rack.  He  would  also  have 
superseded  the  doctor,  but  that  the  latter  would  by  no 
means  be  set  aside  at  this  stage  of  the  game.  A  quiet 
glance  from  Reba's  eyes  had  warned  him  to  keep  his 
place,  and  he  would  have  done  so  against  the  charge  of  a 
column  of  cavalry. 

Mr.  Gladstone,  who  had  been  seeking  vainly  all  the 
evening  a  word  aside  with  Reba,  had  been  attracted  by 
the  sound  of  her  voice;  but  seeing  what  was  to  come,  and 
dreading  the  power  of  such  music  over  his  excited  nerves, 
he  stepped  out  at  a  side  window,  that  opened  on  the  piazza, 
to  quaff  unseen  his  cup  of  mingled  joy  and  pain. 

Reba's  fingers  faltered  slightly  as  she  played  the  prelude. 
Too  many  old  associations  were  connected  with  those 
notes,  not  to  shake,  in  a  measure,  her  composure.  But 
her  danger  made  her  desperate,  and  when  she  struck  the 
first  vocal  note,  her  voice  had  a  sustained  power  and 
mellowness  which  surprised  herself.  She  had  not  been 
carried  back  so  forcibly  to  that  old  time  for  naught.  The 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  405 

golden  quiver  of  melody  which  she  had  dropped  there 
years  ago,  she  picked  up  again  this  night,  and  sang  as  she 
had  never  sung  before  in  Wyndham.  There  had  been 
a  murmur  of  talk  as  she  commenced.  It  was  quickly 
silenced.  To  the  tender,  imploring  strains  of  the  opening, 
succeeded  brilliant  roulades,  passionate  cadenzas,  which 
were  received  with  rapt  attention,  bated  breath,  which 
assured  Peyton  Clavering  that  he  had  simply  roused  this 
woman's  spirit  and  paved  the  way  for  her  triumph,  instead 
of  humbling  her  as  he  had  hoped  to  do.  When  she  fin- 
ished, there  was  silence,  and  then  a  spontaneous  murmur 
of  applause. 

"Reba,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Linscott,  "how  have  you  kept 
that  imprisoned  angel  silent  all  these  years.  I  did  not 
dream  you  had  such  power  of  song." 

She  smiled,  her  face  a  little  pale,  but  her  eyes  sparkling. 
She  was  strong  now,  and  the  doctor  knew  that  he  might 
safely  retire. 

Mr.  Clavering  saw  and  seized  the  opportunity.  He  had 
yet  one  shaft  unspent. 

"Miss  March,"  he  said,  "there  is  a  little  Moorish  song 
which  I  should  like  to  hear  you  sing,  if  you  are  acquainted 
with  it.  It  is  a  duet,  the  air  of  singular  beauty,  and  the 
bass,  which  I  will  try  to  furnish  in  some  imperfect  fashion, 
is  quite  subservient  to  it" 

He  mentioned  a  song  full  of  passion,  and  tenderness, 
which  he  had  taught  her  years  ago,  and  into  which  she 
knew  he  would  throw  all  the  fire  and  pathos  which  he 
could  command;  but  she  did  not  flinch.  She  felt  a  calm- 
ness and  strength  which  she  herself  did  not  understand.. 
"  He  may  grind  me  to  powder  to-morrow,  if  he  chooses," 
was  her  thought,  "but  to-night  he  shall  know  that  I  am  no 
longer  his  slave." 

She  sang  the  song  with  him.     Her  execution  was  pt 
fectly  artistic ;   the   sentiment  was   fully  expressed,  but 


406  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

nowhere  exaggerated;  and  not  once,  from  first  to  last, 
did  her  tones  falter.  All  the  persuasive  eloquence  of  hik 
voice  failed  utterly  to  move  her,  and  he  knew  that  it  failed. 
At  the  close  of  the  song,  she  rose  with  the  most  perfect 
and  graceful  composure,  and  meeting  Mr.  Clavering's 
glittering  eye  with  a  glance  as  cool  and  firm  as  if  no 
memory  of  passionate  yesterdays  was  seething  in  her 
brain,  she  stepped  aside  among  the  group  at  the  opposite 
end  of  the  piano. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  general  movement  toward 
the  supper  room,  which  frustrated  Reba's  design  of  stealing 
out  doors  for  a  breath  of  fresh  air,  and  a  quiet  interlude 
to  the  troubled  emotions  of  the  evening.  The  honors  of 
the  coffee-urn  had  been  assigned  to  her;  but,  after  the 
cups  had  been  filled  for  the  first  time,  she  resigned  her 
position  on  plea  of  fatigue,  and  crossing  the  hall  and  the 
now  deserted  parlors,  stepped  out  upon  the  piazza.  The 
dining-room,  with  its  hum  and  stir,  was  quite  upon  the  other 
Bide  of  the  house,  and  here,  among  the  glistening  shrubbery, 
the  night  lay  still,  and  starry,  and  lucent.  Wafts  of  sweet 
odors,  from  the  flowers  beyond,  came  up  before  the  dew- 
laden  breeze,  and  in  and  out,  among  the  roses  and  honey- 
suckles, the  fire-flies  came  and  went  with  joyous  sparkle. 

Reba  stood  for  a  moment  just  outside  the  window,  her 
silver  drapery  glistening  faintly  in  the  light  which  streamed 
out  from  the  brilliant  scene  within ;  then,  gathering  her 
lace  scarf  about  her,  she  commenced  walking  up  and  down. 
As  she  passed  one  of  the  heavy,  leaf-draped  pillars,  a  figure 
emerged  from  the  shadow,  and  a  hand  caught  hers.  She 
knew  instinctively  what  hand  it  was,  but  she  shrank  from 
it  with  a  sudden  exclamation. 

"There  is  then  no  fire  left  in  the  old  ashes?"  said  Mr. 
Gladstone,  sadly. 

Reba  looked  up  into  his  face,  and  spoke  with  passionate 
energy : 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  407 

"  I  will  answer  you  that  a  hundred  years  hence,  when 
time  and  circumstance,  and  earth  itself  shall  be  beneath 
our  feet." 

He  took  her  hand  and  drew  her  nearer ;  but  she  shrank 
from  him. 

"  Reba,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been  jealous  all  the  evening 
of  the  bright  look  on  your  face;  the  winged  arrows  of  your 
voice  have  pierced  me  through  and  through.  I  could  not 
have  sung  those  passion-freighted  strains  so  firmly.  But 
your  face  is  very  wan  and  sad  now.  I  watched  you  as 
you  stood  yonder  in  the  light,  and  I  know  your  heart 
aches.  Will  you  rest  it  here  on  mine  ?  " 

"  No,  Mr.  Gladstone,  I  will  not." 

"Reba,  why  refuse  your  own?  I've  touched  no  woman's 
hand  since  I  held  yours  last.  My  lips  keep  your  kiss  sacred 
still.  If  you  will  not  be  my  wife,  must  you  still  refuse  my 
tenderest,  purest,  most  devoted  care  ?" 

"Mr.  Gladstone,  I  am  no  worker  of  miracles,  that  I  can 
handle  fire  and  not  be  burned.  I  do  not  misjudge  you ;  I 
know  that  you  would  be  my  friend,  my  comforter,  my 
helper ;  but  it  can  never  be." 

"  It  hurts  me  so,  my  darling,  for  you  are  and  always 
will  be  my  darling,  to  see  your_  pale,  wan  face,  and  feel 
that  I  cannot  chase  away  the  wanness  and  the  pallor,  and 
win  back  the  light,  the  dew,  the  smiling  curves  again." 

They  stood  for  a  moment,  in  silence,  and  a  tear  fell  on 
his  hand.  When  he  spoke  again,  his  voice  had  a  different 
accent. 

"Reba,"  he  said,  "one  thing  I  ask,  not  as  a  favor,  but  as 
a  right.  Nothing  which  I  could  suffer  could  equal  this 
torture  of  blind  conjecture  and  surmise.  Since  we  are 
hopelessly  parted,  and  there  is  no  crumb  of  comfort  left 
for  us,  not  even  this  poor  show  of  friendliness  possible  to 
our  two  eager  hearts,  I  must  know  the  worst  You  have 
no  right  any  longer  to  conceal  it." 


408  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  remained  silent 
for  a  moment,  stifling  a  pain  he  could  not  comprehend. 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  "  God  overrules  all  things.  Come 
to  ine  to-morrow  evening,  at  eight  o'clock,  and  I  will  tell 
you  all." 

"Reba,  I  have  not  pained  you  unnecessarily,  have  I? 
You  don't  feel  that  I  am  arbitrary  and  unreasonable?" 

"No;  oh,  no.  It  is  quite  right;"  and  then  her  tears  burst 
forth  afresh.  He  would  take  no  denial  now  ;  he  drew  her 
tenderly  to  him,  held  her  weeping  on  his  shoulder  for  a 
moment,  kissed  her  as  one  might  kiss  a  sobbing  babe, 
dried  the  tears  from  her  cheeks,  and  then  said : 

"  Good  night,  my  little  one.  Go  quietly  to  your  chamber, 
and  hide  the  traces  of  your  tears.  Dream  pleasant  dreams, 
my  own.  The  faith  you  gave  me,  when  we  parted  last,  I 
bring  back  to  you  to-night.  God  will  not  suffer  love  like 
ours  always  to  go  unfulfilled.  Now  that  you  have  promised 
me  your  whole  confidence,  I  feel  already  the  strength  of 
ten  men  within  me.  Trust  me,  there  will  be  some  way 
found  out  of  this  most  painful  labyrinth." 

There  were  voices  in  the  drawing-room,  and  lifting  her 
tear-stained  face  to  his,  for  the  last  farewell,  she  slipped 
from-  his  embrace,  and  flitting  around  to  a  side  door 
gained  her  room  unobserved. 


WOMAN'S  SECRET.  409 


XXXIX. 

A    SACBIFICE    FOB    THE    PUBLIC    GOOD. 

Provincial  Wyndham  had  not  reached  the  metropolitan 
pitch  of  turning  night  into  day,  and  as  the  town  clock  was 
striking  twelve,  Abraham  Gladstone  and  Peyton  Clavering 
turned  their  steps  homeward  from  Mrs.  Darrell's.  They 
were  each,  in  a  different  way,  inwardly  perturbed.  Mr. 
Gladstone's  agitation  inclined  him  to  silence.  Mr.  Claver- 
ing, on  the  contrary,  was  just  in  that  state  of  irritation 
which  made  talking  a  necessity  to  him.  He  was  hot  a 
man  of  great  intellectual  caliber,  though  his  attainments 
were  certainly  creditable.  His  shining  traits  were  all 
superficial ;  there  was  nothing  particularly  firm  or  stable 
about  him,  except  his  ambition  and  his  will.  To  be  crossed 
in  these  points,  and  that  by  a  woman ;  a  woman,  too, 
whom  he  had  won  and  worn,  and  cast  aside,  was  precisely 
the  kind  of  affront  which  he  was  most  likely  to  feel,  and  to 
resent  with  the  inconsiderate  zeal  of  a  shallow  nature. 

"A  very  fair  entertainment,"  he  said  to  his  companion, 
"  for  Wyndham.  Decidedly,  the  Darrells  have  come  up, 
during  the  last  eight  years." 

"Yes,  Darrell  has  managed  his  business  shrewdly,  and 
his  wife  is  a  woman  to  grace  any  circle.  A  man  with  such 
a  wife  naturally  grows  ambitious." 

"In  the  narrow  firmament  of  Wyndham,  Mrs.  Darrell  is 
no  doubt  a  star.  She  has  always  borne  an  unblemished 
reputation,  I  believe." 

"  Certainly ;  so  much  so,  that  your  remark  sounds 
strangely  in  Wyndham  ears.  One  would  like  to  know 
what  suggested  it?" 

"  Oh !  nothing,  except  that  she  seems  to  keep  a  very 
pretty  piece  of  trumpery  about  her  house.  Miss  Rebecca 


410  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

March;  ha!  ha!  that  is  a  fine  dodge  for  that  old  sinner  to 
practice." 

The  June  midnight  lay  dense  and  dark  around  them; 
even  the  fitful  fire-flies  had  disappeared,  and  the  drooping 
boughs  of  the  great,  umbrageous  elms  under  which  they 
walked,  shut  out  the  stars.  It  was  well.  No  human  eye 
noted  the  swift  flush  which  passed  over  Abraham  Glad- 
stone's face,  or  the  quick,  resentful  gesture  of  his  arm,  as 
these  cool,  sardonic  tones  grated  on  his  ear.  But  a  second 
thought  arrested  his  hand,  and  even  checked  the  words 
that  would  have  betrayed  him. 

"You  know  her,  then?"  he  said. 

"Know  her?  I  should  think  so.  She  lived  with  me  two 
years  as  belle  amie.  She'll  find  out  that  I  know  her  before 
I  have  done  Avith  her." 

Then  was  made  manifest  the  crowning  glory  of  the 
masculine  organization — its  princely  strength.  There  was 
no  quivering  of  the  flesh,  no  weak  sinking  of  the  nerves 
with  surprise  and  horror,  but,  after  the  momentary  shock, 
a  calm,  lucid  comprehension  of  the  facts,  and  a  steady, 
orderly  massing  of  the  virile  forces  to  meet  them. 

"I  should  like  to  hear  the  whole  of  that  story,"  said  Mr. 
Gladstone.  "  It  is  early  yet  for  you  and  me.  Let  us  turn 
in  here  at  my  office,  and  light  our  cigars,  and  talk  the 
matter  over." 

If  there  was  a  harshness  and  constraint  in  his  voice,  Mr. 
Clavering  was  too  preoccupied  to  notice  it.  The  office  was 
a  tiny  building,  standing  by  itself,  at  a  corner  of  the  road, 
with  wild  ivy  and  a  Virginia  creeper  covering  its  low 
roof,  and  hanging  in  festoons  over  its  walls.  Mr.  Claver- 
ing was  nothing  loath  to  the  proposition,  and  they  entered 
and  struck  a  light.  Mr.  Gladstone's  mind  was  working 
rapidly  all  that  time,  though  his  preoccupation  took  the 
form,  to  the  eye  of  his  companion,  of  an  eager  search  after 
matches,  and  a  hospitable  arrangement  of  chairs. 


A  WOMAN'S   SECRET.  411 

They  were  seated  at  length;  Mr.  Clavering  in  an  easy 
office  chair,  with  his  feet  tilted  upon  the  stove,  and  a 
fragrant  Havana  between  his  lips;  Mr.  Gladstone  a  little 
back  of  him,  in  the  shadow,  facing  his  desk,  upon  which 
were  strewn  blank  forms  and  writing  materials.  Clavering 
took  out  his  pocket-flask  of  brandy,  and  passed  it  to  his 
companion;  but  the  latter  had  need  of  strong  nerves,  and 
imbibed  very  lightly;  and  that  entirely  for  the  sake  of 
promoting  the  companionable  feeling  upon  which  so  much 
depended.  Mr.  Clavering  indulged  himself  in  a  liberal 
potation,  smacked  his  lips  as  if  the  flavor  of  it  pleased 
him,  and  set  the  flask  by  his  side  for  farther  use. 

"The  summer  after  I  left  Wyndham,"  he  commenced, 
"I  went  out  to  a  little  village  among  the  Catskills  to  spend 
a  few  weeks.  The  business  which  originally  took  me 
there  is  of  no  importance;  the  business  I  found  there  is  the 
main  thing  in  this  story.  During  the  first  week  of  my 
stay,  accident  brought  me  acquainted  with  Miss  Granger 
and  her  pretty  niece.  The  spinster  was  a  prim  and  starched 
old  ironsides;  the  maiden  as  demure  and  captivating  as 
one  could  imagine.  She  was  kept,  too,  in  very  strict  bonds; 
saw  no  society,  except  the  few  elect  and  sanctified  saints 
with  whom  her  aunt  consorted;  had  no  real  company, 
except  a  cracked  piano,  and  a  few  old  books,  mostly 
classics,  which  had  been  her  father's.  As  for  modern 
works  of  fiction,  and  the  like,  the  old  lady  would  as  soon 
have  permitted  her  to  eat  strychnine  as  to  read  them. 
The  whole  arrangement  took  my  fancy  at  once.  It  was 
just  the  kind  of  sport  that  suited  me,  to  break  that  old 
dragon's  chains  and  let  the  pretty  warbler  go  free.  I  had 
to  manage,  as  you  may  imagine,  with  a  good  deal  of 
dexterity.  The  spinster  was  wary,  the  maiden  shy;  but 
by  going  to  church  regularly,  putting  on  a  long  face,  and 
suffering  her  to  lend  me  Alleyne's  Alarm,  I  got  around  the 
first,  and  obtained  permission  to  call  on  the  lady-bird. 


412  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

She  has  a  fine  voice,  as  you  know;  but  she  had  known 
nothing  of  true  culture  at  that  time.  I  brought  her  music 
and  trained  her  voice,  and  flattered  her  besides,  with  tell- 
ing her  that  she  ought  to  have  Italian  masters.  There 
were  moonlight  walks  and  serenades,  and  much  reading  of 
sentimental  poetry.  All  these  things  tell,  you  know,  on 
an  unsophisticated  maiden ;  and  in  a  month's  time  I  had 
taught  the  little  girl  her  first  lesson  in  kissing,  and  had 
won  her  promise  to  marry  me." 

Mr.  Clavering  paused,  removed  his  cigar,  offered  the 
brandy  flask  to  his  companion,  who  declined  it,  and  then 
took  a  strong  and  deep  potation  himself.  The  liquor  he 
had  already  drunk  was  by  this  time  exercising  a  mollifying 
influence  npon  his  temper;  and  together  with  the  pleasant 
memories  which  his  story  called  up,  gave  an  exceeding 
glibness  to  his  tongue. 

"The  worst  was,  that  the  maiden  continued  shy.  Not 
that  she  was  not  in  love.  I  fancy  there  are  very  few 
women  who,  under  the  circumstances,  would  not  have  felt 
the  influence  of  such  fascinations  as  I  could  bring  to  bear. 
But  she  was  one  of  a  thousand.  Her  father  had  been  a 
Presbyterian  clergyman  of  Puritan  ancestry,  her  mother  a 
Quakeress;  and  the  daughter  had  inherited  the  demure 
ways  of  the  one  and  the  stubborn  sentiments  of  the  other. 
When  a  woman  is  in  love,  there  is  always  some  way  to  be 
found  of  managing  her;  this  one  was  much  too  prudish  to 
be  won  by  any  easy  method,  but,  then,  she  was  also  much 
too  pretty  and  too  infatuated  to  be  abandoned  at  this  stage 
of  the  game.  The  difficulty,  too,  enhanced  the  zeal  of  the 
enterprise.  My  time  was  mostly  on  my  hands  then,  and 
I  lingered  in  the  town  a  good  deal  longer  than  I  first 
intended.  The  old  lady  at  last  began  to  be  suspicious,  but 
it  was  too  late  in  the  day.  There  was  little  love  between 
her  and  her  niece,  and  Emily  was  very  much  prepossessed 
in  my  favor.  Of  course,  when  the  old  lady  began  to 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  413 

persecute  her,  Em  clung  to  me  with  all  the  more  fervor.  I 
thought  then  the  time  had  really  come  to  strike  a  blow, 
but  it  was  of  no  use.  I  dropped  a  casual  word  one  even- 
ing to  try  her,  and  she  blazed  out  in  such  a  way,  that  I 
knew  if  I  persisted  she  would  forbid  me  the  house,  if  her 
heart  broke  the  next  minute.  I  think  my  blood  was  never 
fairly  up  till  then;  but  from  that  moment  I  swore  to  possess 
her.  There  was  only  one  dodge  that  was  certain  to  be 
effectual,  and  that  was  to  propose  a  private  marriage,  and 
so  get  her  to  New  York  with  me.  She  was  a  little  averse 
even  to  this;  but,  by  gentleness  and  fervent  protestations, 
I  finally  won  her  consent.  Then  I  sent  at  once  to  New 
York  for  Malbranche,  and,  under  pretense  of  not  being  able 
to  trust  the  clergymen  of  the  town,  I  got  her  to  drive  over 
to  the  next  village,  where,  of  course,  Malbranche  met  us, 
in  a  black  coat  and  white  neckcloth,  and  the  thing  was 
done." 

Mr.  Gladstone  edged  around  more  into  the  shadow,  and 
Clavering,  who  sat  turned  a  quarter  from  him,  could  not 
see  how  nervously  his  fingers  worked  with  the  pens  and 
bits  of  papers  before  him.  He  was  too  well  trained  in  his 
profession  to  interrupt  a  witness  who  was  telling  his  story 
in  an  unexceptionable  manner;  but  just  here  he  interposed 
a  question: 

"I  suppose  you  told  her  afterwards?" 

"Egad,  no;  the  best  of  the  story  is  yet  to  come.  That 
woman  was  always  a  puzzle  to  me.  She's  not  at  all  like 
the  common  run.  After  I  had  married  her — ahem!  I  natur- 
ally expected  she  would  turn  a  cold  shoulder  on  the  propri- 
eties; but,  in  the  whole  two  years  I  kept  her,  I  never  saw  a 
day  when  I  felt  it  safe  to  tell  her  that'she  was  not  my  wife. 
She  would  have  left  me  in  an  instant,  and  it  did  not  suit 
me  to  lose  her  in  that  way.  It  was  expensive  living  in 
New  York — that  was  my  excuse,  you  understand — so  I 
rented  a  little  cottage  up  the  river,  and  put  her  at  house- 


414  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

keeping,  to  which  she  took  with  the  true  woman  instinct. 
I  only  visited  her  once  a  week,  more  or  less,  as  I  felt 
inclined.  I  intimated  to  her  that,  being  away  so  much,  I 
should  hardly  desire  her  to  see  a  great  deal  of 'company, 
and  that  was  sufficient  She  snubbed  every  soul  that 
called  on  her.  I've  seen  women  in  love,  in  my  time,  not 
a  few;  but  such  a  little  fool  as  she  was,  you  seldom  come 
across.  Why,  just  before  we  left  her  home,  she  came  to 
me  one  day  and  brought  me  some  papers  ;  they  were 
vouchers  for  her  little  portion  —  about  two  thousand 
dollars — which  an  old  uncle  of  her  mother  had  left  to 
Emily  after  her  mother's  death,  as  a  sort  of  expiation 
for  the  way  the  whole  family  had  treated  her  when  she 
married  out  of  the  society.  It  was  just  so  with  every- 
thing. She  trusted  me  to  the  last  degree.  Malbranche 
had  taken  a  fancy  to  her  from  the  first,  and  went  up  there 
once  during  my  absence,  determined  to  undeceive  her  and 
try  on  the  strength  of  that  act  of  friendship  to  come  in 
himself  for  her  favor;  but  it  was  useless.  Her  indignation 
actually  frightened  him  from  his  purpose.  To  have  the 
keeping  of  such  a  woman  as  that,  was,  as  you  may  imagine, 
quite  a  distinction  among  the  fellows  of  our  set.  I  invited 
two  or  three  of  them  occasionally  out  to  see  her.  I  had 
taken  great  pains  with  her  voice,  and  she  sang  them  into 
the  seventh  heaven  of  admiration.  Now  and  then,  too, 
I  took  her  into  town  to  an  opera,  or  a  good  theatrical 
performance;  I  bought  her  books,  and,  in  short,  made  a 
lady  of  her." 

"I  should  imagine  you  might  have  gotten  quite  in  love 
yourself,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone. 

"  In  love  ?  Yes ;  for  the  first  month  I  was  rather  taken. 
After  that,  her  style  bored  me ;  but  I  kept  the  thing  up 
just  becaiise  there  were  half  a  dozen  fellows  dying  of 
envy,  and  ready  any  minute  to  take  her  off  my  hands. 
She.  used  to  think  sometimes  ihat  I  was  not  very  ardent, 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  415 

and  cry  about  it,  but  it  never  made  any  difference  with 
her.  She  would  have  gone  to  the  death  with  me  till  the 
last.  After  a  while  she  grew  mysterious  and  happy,  and 
at  last  confided  to  me  that  she  was  enciente.  That  finished 
the  business  for  me,  and  from  that  time  I  was  bored  to 
death  with  her;  but  I  would  not  give  her  up,  just  because 
Malbranche  was  so  dead  in  love  with  her." 

Mr.  Gladstone's  face  was  very  pale,  and  his  voice  was 
so  husky  that  he  hardly  dared  to  ask, 

"What  did  you  do  with  her,  when  you  left  for  South 
America?" 

"Oh!  I  was  hard  up,  and  Malbranche  had,  one  way  or 
another,  gotten  my  I.  O.  U.'s  for  a  thousand  dollars.  For 
the  promise  of  her,  he  burnt  the  notes  before  my  eyes." 

The  blood  was  running  hotter  and  hotter  in  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's veins,  but  he  had  not  been  made  a  man,  to  make 
himself  a  fool;  he  controlled  himself,  even  forced  himself 
to  speak  in  a  voice  as  natural  as  he  could  command. 

"I  think  you  mentioned  that  you  had  two  thousand 
dollars  or  so,  of  her  money?" 

"  Oh!  that  was  all  gone  long  before.  I  lost  that  at  6cart£. 
As  I  was  saying,  I  turned  her  over  to  Malbranche,  or 
promised  to.  There  was  a  pretty  scene  when  I  told  her 
of  it.  I  went  up  there  the  evening  of  the  day  before  the 
one  on  which  I  was  to  sail.  In  the  morning,  just  before  I 
left,  I  told  her  the  whole  thing,  and  explained  the  arrange- 
ment I  had  made  with  Malbranche.  She  fainted  and  cried 
and  took  on,  of  course,  after  the  way  of  women.  By 
Heaven!  she  wouldn't  so  much  as  take  my  hand  to  say 
good-by,  after  she  knew  it.  I  heard,  afterwards,  that  she 
was  taken  sick  that  day,  and  on  the  next  her  child  was 
born." 

"You  don't  know  what  became  of  her  after  that?" 

"Well,  I  have  Malbranche's  word  for  what  happened. 
A  more  enraged  man  never  lived  than  he  was  when  he 


416  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

wrote  me  about  it,  and  I  didn't  blame  him.  Counting 
the  thousand  he  as  good  as  paid  me,  that  woman  cost 
him  fifteen  hundred  dollars  clear  cash,  before  she  left  him; 
and  for  that  money  he  never  got  so  much  as  the  chance 
to  lay  his  little  finger  on  her.  You  see,  she  was  so  affected 
by  my  going  away,  that  she  was  sick  in  her  bed  three 
months,  and  during  all  the  time  he  paid  her  bills,  waiting 
for  her  to  recover.  At  last  she  was  able  to  get  about  the 
house;  then  he  went  to  see  her.  They  had  a  stormy  time 
of  it,  but  the  upshot  of  it  was,  that  she  utterly  refused  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  him.  It  ran  along  that  way 
three  or  four  weeks,  till  he  found  that  he  might  as  well 
give  up  the  straight  course,  and  try  a  roundabout  one. 
That  is  the  way  women  compel  men  to  practice  villainy 
on  them.  Malbranche  was  very  honorable,  but  he  couldn't 
stand  everything.  He  pretended,  at  last,  to  be  overcome 
by  her  virtue,  but  told  her  that  the  cottage  she  had  been 
living  in  was  rented  to  another  party,  and  that  she  must 
move.  She  was  clearly  unable  to  take  care  of  herself  just 
then,  and  he  would  take  her  home  to  his  mother's,  where 
she  would  be  perfectly  safe,  till  she  was  able  to  look 
around  and  find  employment.  He  laid  more  perjuries  on 
his  soul  than  would  sink  him  into  the  hottest  hell — if  he 
believed  in  one,  which  he  don't  —  and  finally  persuaded 
her.  Then  he  thought  he  was  sure  of  her,  for  he  took 
her  straight  to  old  Mother  Rosamond,  the  biggest  she- 
devil  in  all  New  York;  with  orders  to  keep  her  a  week,  to 
hide  nothing  from  her  concerning  the  character  of  the 
house,  but  to  let  no  man  look  upon  her  face.  Malbranche's 
plan  was  to  get  rid  of  the  child  in  that  time,  and  break 
down  her  spirit,  so  that  she  would  go  with  him  willingly 
to  a  better  place;  for  Malbranche  meant  to  treat  her  well 
and  keep  her  like  a  lady.  But  there  was  where  he  erred. 
He  gave  her  too  much  tether,  and  I  wrote  him  so.  Some- 
how, it  is  a  mystery  to  this  day,  how,  for  old  Rosamond  is 


A  TfOMAN'S   SECRET.  417 

the  devil  and  all,  and  she  had  an  old  hag  of  a  portress, 
an  African  they  called  Egypt,  who  was  a  perfect  tigress; 
but  with  all  their  care,  that  woman  did  get  away  from 
them  on  the  second  morning,  and  Malbranche  never  saw 
her  afterwards." 

Mr.  Gladstone  drew  a  long  breath,  but  his  face  was  still 
ghastly  pale.  There  was  a  silence  which  it  behooved  him 
to  break. 

"Had  she  money,"  he  asked,  "  with  which  to  take  care 
of  herself?" 

"Oh!  no;  but  then  she  had  a  watch  and  a  few  valuable 
trinkets,  that  had  been  her  mother's,  which  she  no  doubt 
pawned." 

"You  seem  to  have  very  little  conscience  about  the 
matter,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  with  bitter  emphasis,  and  a 
rising  heat  of  manner. 

"Oh!"  said  Clavering,  removing  his  cigar  from  his 
mouth,  and  knocking  the  ashes  against  his  boot,  "I  settled 
all  that  long  ago.  Prostitution  is  a  necessary  evil.  The 
ranks  must  be  kept  full  for  the  safety  of  society.  It  may 
as  well  be  I ." 

"Stop!  right  there,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Gladstone,  springing 
to  his  feet  with  the  stern  and  wrathful  energy  of  a  Roman 
Tribune.  "  Say  one  word  more  and  I'll  choke  that  stale 
lie  down  your  throat.  You  have  shown  yourself  a  mis- 
creant of  the  deepest  dye ;  you  shall  not  now  cover 
yourself  with  the  thin  disguise  of  a  public  benefactor." 

Clavering  turned  around,  and  looked  at  the  flashing  eyes 
which  scowled  at  him  from  under  those  heavy  brows,  and 
the  tall,  strong  figure,  full  of  fire  and  action,  with  surprise 
not  unmixed  with  cool  scorn.  He  waved  his  hand  depre- 
catingly,  the  splendid  diamond  on  his  little  finger  flashing 
in  the  light. 

"  Sit  down,"  he  said,  "  sit  down ;  don't  get  excited  over 
a  little  story  like  this.  Why,  twenty  gentlemen  whom 


418  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

you  and  I  both  know,  might  tell  you  the  essential  counter- 
part of  it." 

"No,  I  will  not  sit  down,"  said  Gladstone.  "I  know 
too  well  that  the  lives  of  many  men  might  furnish  parallel 
cases;  but  this  concerns  a  woman  whom  Hove.  I  shame 
to  listen  to  these  brazen  boasts  of  villainy,  and  think  that 
my  country's  laws  are  powerless  to  avenge  such  wrongs. 
But,  though  this  hellish  iniquity  might  stalk  unabashed 
through  all  the  market  places  of  the  world,  I  thank  my  God 
that  a  petty  crime,  a  thing  which  is,  to  this  damnable 
contrivance  of  vice,  a  mere  trifling  misdemeanor,  is  still 
a  weighty  thing  enough  to  let  loose  upon  you  the  well- 
sharpened  fangs  of  the  law." 

"  Why,  brother,  you  wax  excited.  What  is  this  woman 
to  you  ?  " 

"  Simply  the  woman  I  love,  and  whom,  please  God,  I  will 
marry;  and  upon  whose  face  you  shall  never  look  again, 
until  you  meet  it  at  the  bar  of  the  Great  Judge. 

"  These  are  brave  words,  brother,  and  need  strong 
backing." 

"  They  shall  have  it,  too.  Never  call  me  brother  again. 
For  six  months  that  tie  has  shut  my  lips.  This  moment  I 
abjure  it,  and  call  upon  her  whose  gentle  blood  created  it 
to  bless  the  deed.  Listen,  Peyton  Clavering — thank  God, 
you  are  no  Gladstone — I  have  now  a  little  story  to  tell 
you.'1'1 

"  On  the  24th  of  that  August  in  which  my  father  died, 
he  made  a  will,  drawn  by  your  hand,  in  which,  after 
bequeathing  to  me,  his  legal  heir,  all  his  real,  and  by  far 
the  greater  part  of  his  personal  estate,  he  left  to  you  a 
legacy  of  two  thousand  dollars,  in  consideration  of  your 
kind  attendance  upon  his  last  sickness,  during  the  absence 
of  his  children." 

Mr.  Clavering  had  thrown  away  his  cigar,  and  turned 
about  in  his  chair,  so  as  to  face  his  companion.  His 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  419 

countenance  was  a  shade  paler  than  common,  but  quite 
composed. 

"  It  is  false,"  he  said,  firmly.  "  I  never  drew  sxich  a 
will." 

"  I  say  nothing  which  I  am  not  prepared  to  prove," 
said  Mr.  Gladstone.  "  That  document  is  now  in  my 
possession." 

Clavering  started  visibly,  but  still  kept  the  same  imper- 
turbable face. 

"  It  was  witnessed  by  Joel  Ames  and  Nancy  Barrett," 
he  continued.  "  When  it  was  finished,  my  father  read  it 
over  himself,  folded  it,  and  deposited  it  under  his  pillow, 
waiting  to  deliver  it  to  the  family  solicitor,  when  he  should 
arrive;  that  functionary  being  then  out  of  town,  which  was 
the  reason  that  the  task  had  been  committed  to  you.  That 
was  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  He  fell  into  a 
doze  then,  and  leaving  Nancy  Barrett  by  his  bedside,  you 
retired  to  your  own  room,  where  you  proceeded  to  draw 
the  form  of  another  will,  in  which  your  bequest  was 
changed  from  two  thousand  to  twenty  thousand  dollars. 
You  were  sufficiently  familiar  with  my  father's  signature 
to  counterfeit  it  with  good  success ;  the  plain,  round  hand 
of  Nancy  Barrett,  also,  gave  you  very  little  trouble  j  but 
the  crooked  chirography  of  Joel  was  more  unmanagv  able. 
To  surmount  this  difficulty,  you  adopted  a  dangerous 
expedient.  Trusting  to  Joel's  blunt  wits,  you  called  him 
into  your  room,  treated  him  to  a  glass  of  cherry  rum; 
observed  to  him  that  he  wrote  a  singular  hand;  maaipu- 
lated  him  with  that  devilish  art  which  is  so  natural  to  you. 
Finally,  under  pretense  of  the  singularity  of  his  hand,  and 
your  long  acquaintance  and  friendly  feeling,  you  prevailed 
upon  him  to  give  you  his  autograph  in  exchange  for  your 
own.  You,  of  course,  provided  the  sheet  of  paper  upon 
which  it  was  to  be  written.  At  the  time,  Joel  was  ei  iirely 
unsuspicious.  Afterward,  it  occurred  to  him  as  sii  gular 


420  A  WOMAN'S,  SECRET. 

that  you  should  have  been  particular  to  have  him  write 
it  near  the  bottom  of  a  page.  It  was  a  good  many  years 
before  his  muddy  brain  cleared  up  the  matter  sufficiently 
to  make  him  positively  suspicious.  In  fact,  I  believe,  if 
he  had  not  confided  the  matter  to  his  wife,  I  should  have 
been  ignorant  of  it  to-day ;  but,  a  year  ago,  he  came  to 
me,  and  made  a  clean  breast  of  the  affair.  I  searched  at 
once  for  the  first  will,  but  did  not  succeed  in  finding  it. 
A  day  or  two  before  I  left  for  "Washington,  however,  I 
went  over  to  the  old  place  again ;  then,  looking  for  another 
paper,  I  bethought  myself  of  that  old  secretary  which 
used  to  stand  in  your  room.  An  indiscriminate  search 
through  it  brought  me  at  last  upon  a  drawer,  where  my 
attention  was  first  attracted  by  seeing  the  names  of  Nancy 
and  Joel  scribbled  unmeaningly  over  various  bits  of  paper. 
My  suspicions  were  aroused,  and  a  little  energy  brought 
to  light  the  true  will,  which,  with  the  unaccountable  heed- 
lessness  of  criminals,  you  had  neglected  to  destroy,  after 
abstracting  it  from  its  hiding  place,  during  my  father's 
unconsciousness,  and  replacing  it  with  the  forged  docu- 
ment. 

"When  Mr.  Denbigh,  the  solicitor,  arrived  the  next 
morning,  Joel  was  in  the  room,  and  witnessed  the  transfer 
of  the  document  to  him,  and  is  prepared  to  swear,  that — 
though  my  father  said  to  him:  'This  is  my  will,  Denbigh. 
Richard  made  it  out,  and  Joel  and  Nancy  witnessed  it.  It 
is  all  right.  I've  remembered  Richard  in  it.  I  tell  you 
so,  that  nobody  need  suspect  me  of  being  unduly  influenced 
by  him.  He  has  been  good  to  me,  in  Abraham's  absence,' — 
he  did  not  look  at  the  will.  Yoii  were  in  the  room  at  the 
time,  watching  narrowly  the  whole  transaction.  What  I 
have  said,  I  can  prove.  You  know  the  state  of  the  public 
feeling  in  the  town,  on  the  subject.  Does  the  prospect  of 
having  this  thing  brought  up  in  a  court  of  law  look 
pleasing  to  yon?" 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  421 

Clavering's  face  was  as  white  as  the  wall.  He  rested 
his  elbows  on  the  table,  and  supported  his  head  with  his 
hands. 

"Abraham,"  he  said,  at  length  looking  up,  "what  do 
you  propose  to  do?  You  cannot  get  your  money  back. 
Et  was  spent  long  ago.  Do  you  wish  to  bring  dishonor 
upon  one  of  your  own  kin  ?  " 

"  Yesterday,  I  did  not.  Yesterday,  my  heart  was  all 
attuned  to  mercy.  To-day,  I  would  to  God  I  had  the 
power  of  meting  out  to  you  a  tenfold  bitterer  justice. 
This  is  what  I  propose  to  do : 

"  This  paper  is  a  warrant  for  your  arrest.  With  the 
break  of  day  I  shall  give  it  into  the  hands  of  Sheriff  Jones; 
a  man  tried  and  true,  through  whose  fingers  never  yet  a 
criminal  escaped.  You  will  take  the  early  train  for  New 
York;  Jones  will  go  with  you  all  the  way;  he  will  stay 
with  you  till  you  get  your  passage  for  South  America,  and 
he  will  see  you  on  blue  water.  If,  at  any  time,  you  look 
as  if  you  desired  to  falter,  he  will  lay  his  hand  upon  you, 
and  claim  his  prisoner." 

"But,  Abraham,  I  cannot — I  swear  I  will  not  leave  this 
town  so  suddenly,  and  without  explanation." 

"Tcanmake  all  necessary  explanations;  and  I  swear  that 
if  the  light  of  the  sun  finds  you  in  the  town,  you'll  take 
your  breakfast  in  the  county  jail." 

Clavering  was  desperate.  He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
drew  a  revolver;  but  his  excitement  made  his  nerves 
unsteady,  and  before  he  could  cock  it,  it  was  sent  whirling 
out  of  his  hand,  and  struck  the  wall.  Abraham  Gladstone 
picked  it  up  coolly,  and  said  : 

"  Dick,  it  is  useless.  I  hold  the  balance  of  power.  As 
my  mother's  son,  I  would  have  shielded  you.  As  that 
woman's  betrayer,  I'll  haunt  you  to  your  grave.  If  ever, 
after  the  rising  of  the  sun,  you  set  your  foot  in  this  town; 
if  ever,  after  to-morrow,  you  show  your  face  in  any  spot 


422  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

of  God's  universe,  which  the  laws  of  this  land  can  bo 
made  to  reach,  and  the  fact  comes  to  my  knowledge;  if 
ever,  after  this  moment,  your  babbling  tongue  shall  speak 
that  woman's  name,  in  such  a  way  that  I  hear  of  it,  I  will 
drag  you  into  daylight  and  set  a  brand  upon  your  forehead 
that  shall  last  you  as  long  as  Cain's  lasted.  Keep  out  of 
my  way,  out  of  sight  and  sound  of  me,  and  you  are  safe ; 
but  that  is  your  only  safety." 

The  bad  man's  face  was  haggard.  His  great  black  eyes 
and  ample  ebon  locks  heightened  terribly  the  palor  of  his 
aspect. 

"Abraham,"  he  said,  with  bitter,  but  impotent  rage,  "I 
have  not  money  enough  to  carry  me  to  South  America." 

"Sell  your  watch  and  your  gew-gaws,  then,  as  you 
compelled  that  innocent  woman  to  do." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  moments.  Mr.  Gladstone 
looked  at  his  watch;  it  was  three  o'clock;  the  train  was 
due  in  two  hours. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "we  have  no  time  to  be  dallying  here. 
I  shall  go  to  Jones  at  once,  and  you  may  get  your  baggage 
ready  as  soon  as  you  like." 

"  You  won't  give  me  a  day's  time  ?  " 

"In  a  day's  time  you  might  do  mischief  with  your  foul 
tongue,  which  I  could  not  undo  in  a  lifetime." 

"It  is  hard  to  have  that  card  in  my  hand  and  not  be 
allowed  to  play  it.  It  is  hard  to  go  to  the  dogs  for  a 
woman  like  that.  Old  fellow,  I  may  outlive  you." 

"I  shall  take  care  of  that,  and  remember  you  in  my  will. 
As  long  as  you  draw  breath,  you'll  have  the  choice  to  be 
circumspect,  or  teach  your  slender  hands  the  trick  of 
breaking  stones  for  the  public  good." 

They  stepped  out  into  the  waning  night.  Already  the 
east  was  gray,  and  birds  peeped  sleepily  among  the 
branches.  Down  the  fresh  June  air  the  rose-scents  came 
blowing,  striking  the  pallid  senses  of  the  criminal  with  a 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  423 

sickening  sensation,  but  carrying  Abraham  Gladstone  back 
to  the  moment  when,  amid  their  dewy  incense,  he  had 
parted  from  the  woman  he  loved. 

"Ah!  I  said  to  her,"  he  thought,  "God  will  not  let  love 
like  ours  be  always  unfulfilled." 

In  the  rosy  light  of  the  morning,  Peyton  Clavering,  with 
Sheriff  Jones  at  his  side,  stepped  on  board  the  train  for 
New  York.  The  brothers  spoke  no  farewell;  but,  instead, 
Clavering  hissed  into  Abraham's  ear: 

"Before  you  marry  that  woman,  I  advise  you  to  find  out 
who  helped  her  to  get  free  from  Mother  Rosamond,  and 
what  she  did  with  her  brat." 

It  was  a  Parthian  arrow,  and  it  rankled  as  if  it  had 
been  poisoned.  Men  require  absolute  certainty  in  these 
matters;  and  investigation,  under  the  circumstances,  was 
not  a  pleasant  duty. 

Mr.  Gladstone  went  back  to  his  room  at  the  hotel,  and 
succeeded  in  getting  a  few  hours'  rest.  After  an  unrelished 
breakfast,  he  sauntered  out  into  the  town.  The  news  of 
Mr.  Clavering's  departure  was  already  abroad,  but  he  met 
all  questions  with  one  answer : 

"Mr.  Clavering  had  received  intelligence  which  made  it 
necessary  for  him  to  go  to  New  York,  and  he  might  return 
to  South  America." 

Of  course,  nobody  was  satisfied,  but  since  nobody  could 
learn  anything  farther,  the  talk  soon  subsided. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  that  Abraham  was  passing 
the  doctor's  office,  looking  moody  and  troubled.  The 
doctor,  seeing  him  from  the  window,  called  him  in. 

"You  look  down  in  the  mouth,  Gladstone,"  he  said,  after 
a  little  chat.  "It  is  about  this  matter  of  Clavering  and 
Rebecca,  I  reckon." 

Mr.  Gladstone  looked  up  astonished  and  defiant.  He 
was  not  in  a  mood  to-day  to  be  subjected  to  the  doctor's 
prying  inquisition. 


424  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"If  I  am  in  trouble,  sir,"  he  replied,  a  little  haughtily, 
"  my  trouble  is  my  own." 

"I — don't — want — to  meddle — in  your  affairs — for  — 
evil,"  said  the  doctor.  "I  liked  your  father,  and  your 
grandfather,  Gladstone,  and  I  don't  bear  you  any  ill-will. 
Three  or  four  years  ago,  I  saw  Marston  in  New  York,  and 
learned  from  him  some  things  I  thought  you  might  like  to 
know.  Clavering  told  you  part  of  it,  I  reckon  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Abraham,  resignedly;  feeling  that  if  the 
doctor  already  knew  all,  there  was  no  more  to  be  said; 
only  in  his  heart  he  cursed  the  inquisitiveness  which  had 
brought  him  the  knowledge. 

"Did  he  tell  you  how  the  girl  got  away  from  old 
Rosamond?" 

"No,"  said  Abraham,  with  a  little  more  interest.  "Did 
you  learn  that  ?  " 

"I  thought  as  like  as  not  I  knew  some  things  he  could 
not  tell  you.  Rebecca  is  a  good  woman.  It  was  hard  luck 
to  fall  into  Clavering's  hands,  but  she  is  a  good  woman ; 
an  innocent  woman,  for  all  that  I  can  see,  as  any  other.  I 
saw  Marston,  and  I  saw  Malbranche,  and  I  saw  old  Rosa- 
mond afterward.  I  got  it  all  out  of  them  without  their 
eveft  suspecting  that  I  was  interested  in  the  woman,  and 
they  all  told  one  story.  The  girl  was  duped.  She  was 
dev— il— ish— ly  duped.  1 — don't — mean — that — for — swear- 
ing. I  mean  it  for  literal  fact — devilishly  duped!  But 
women  are  women,  the  world  over — bad  ones  and  all. 
There  was  a  girl  in  the  house  who  had  had  her  baby  stolen 
from  her,  just  as  they  meant  to  steal  Rebecca's  baby ;  and 
she  warned  Rebecca,  and  bribed  old  Egypt  with  a  glass 
of  gin  to  go  out  upon  some  errand  for  her.  She  drugged 
the  gin,  and  then  instructed  Rebecca  how  to  unfasten  the 
door  and  get  out.  -  It  all  came  out  afterward,  for  the  girl 
boasted  of  her  revenge,  after  she  had  left  Rosamond's 
house." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  425 

"And  the  baby?"  asked  Gladstone. 

The  doctor  looked  down,  and  twirled  his  thumbs,  and 
whistled  — 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  always  suspected  that  the  little 
Catherine  I  brought  from  New  York,  was  the  baby.  Her 
clothes  were  marked  with  a  '  C,'  and  I  found  her  the  very 
morning  that  Rebecca  got  away  from  old  Rosamond.  I 
am  certain  of  that.  Besides,  she  had  a  look  like  Clavering 
when  you  thought  about  it." 

*  Mr.  Gladstone  rose  and  grasped  the  doctor's  hand,  with 
moist  eyes,  and  a  choking  in  his  throat  which  made  speech 
impossible  for  the  minute. 

"I  can  guess  how  you  feel,"  said  the  doctor.  "It  isn't 
best  to  have  any  uncertainty  in  these  matters.  I  never 
said  anything  about  this  before,  and  I  shouldn't  have  now, 
but  I  was  afraid  you'd  be  going  down  to  New  York  to  ask 
questions,  that  you'd  better  not  ask.  Nobody  thinks  any- 
thing about  it  there  now.  It  has  all  blown  over.  I 
suspect  you  sent  Clavering  off  on  that  old  business  about 
the  will?" 

"How  did  you  know  that?"  asked  Gladstone. 

"Oh!  Yankees  will  guess,  you  know.  I  saw  through 
the  rest  of  it  plain  enough,  and  I  supposed  that  must  be 
your  handle  to  get  him  out  of  the  way.  It  isn't  any  more 
than  I  expected.  I  had  a  conversation  with  Joel  once  that 
let  a  little  light  into  my  mind.  If  he  is  out  of  the  way  for 
good,  what's  to  hinder  your  marrying  Rebecca?" 

It  was  said  simply,  with  an  innocent  uplifting  of  the 
eyes,  that  made  Abraham  smile. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "the  last  time  I  talked  it  over  with 
her,  she  wouldn't  have  me.  I'm  going  to  see  her  about  it 
again  this  evening." 

"That's  right,"  said  the  doctor.     "That— is— right." 


426  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XL. 

TWO    EQUAL    SOULS:    ONE    BOUND,  PERFECTED    WHOLE. 

The  sun  shining  into  her  chamber,  \voke  Reba  on  the 
morning  after  the  party.  She  had  slept  soundly,  and  felt 
unexpectedly  refreshed.  Looking  out  upon  the  broad 
expanse  of  valley  and  upland,  which  stretched  away 
before  her,  rioting  in  its  June  luxuriance  of  waving  grain 
and  green  and  fruitful  orchard;  the  blue  sky  as  clear  as 
sapphire,  and  the  sunshine  golden,  like  the  streets  of  the 
New  Jerusalem,  over  all —  she  felt  a  strong  uplifting  of 
her  soul,  which  seemed  to  set  at  naught  the  darkness  and 
pain  of  the  night  before.  Her  feeling  was  something 
which  she  could  not  at  all  understand.  Reason  and  logic 
were  at  fault  to  account  for  it,  but,  there  it  was,  a  strong, 
free,  buoyant  influence  in  her  soul,  when  all  her  outward 
circumstances  seemed  to  tend  to  weakness,  and  depression, 
and  slavery. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "God  is  good,  and  never  leaves  me 
without  some  grain  of  comfort.  If  the  world  were  swept 
free  of  all  evil,  and  made  ready  for  the  millennial  morning, 
I  should  hardly  feel  lighter  of  heart  than  I  do.  The  cloud 
will  come  soon  enough ;  let  me  enjoy  the  sunshine  while  I 
may." 

Bending  quietly  over  her  desk  in  the  office,  all  clay,  it 
happened  that  no  whisper  of  the  rumors  outside,  in  the 
town,  reached  her  ear.  When  her  work  was  done,  she 
walked  home,  and  asking  Nancy  to  send  a  cup  of  tea  'to 
her  room,  did  not  go  down  stairs  at  all,  till  the  door-bell 
rang,  and  she  knew  that  Mr.  Gladstone  had  come.  For 
the  last  hour  she  had  been  thinking  steadily  of  the  thing 
she  had  promised  to  do,  recalling  the  old  scenes,  exhuming 
bitter  and  piercing  memories.  It  was  not  a  cheerful  task. 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  427 

All  her  soul  shrank  from  it.  "With  the  knowledge  she  had 
of  men,  she  could  not  be  at  all  certain  that  she  could  so 
fulfill  her  promise  as  to  retain,  unimpaired,  even  the 
respect  of  her  lover.  It  is  excoriating  to  a  woman's  pride 
to  know  that  she  has  innocently  suffered  a  wrong  at  the 
hands  of  a  man,  which  not  only  deprives  her  of  the  sym- 
pathy of  her  own  sex,  but  of  the  respect  of  men.  There 
is  an  injustice  and  unnaturalness  about  the  fact,  which 
adds  the  sharpest  sting  to  pain. 

But  Mr.  Gladstone  awaited  her  below,  and  thei'e  was  no 
longer  any  reason  for  delay.  She  went  down  the  stairs, 
and  entered  his  presence,  her  head  drooping  like  a  peni- 
tent, and  her  bosom  heaving  with  unuttered  sighs.  She 
felt  his  arm  around  her,  and  her  chin  lifted  for  the  kiss 
upon  her  forehead,  but  she  had  no  courage  to  look  into  his 
eyes.  She  strove  to  withdraw  herself,  but  the  arm  still 
held  her  fast. 

"Reba,"  he  said,  "will  you  not  look  at  me?  My  wounded, 
martyred  darling,  can  you  not  see  in  my  eyes  the  eternal 
love  my  soul  bears  for  you  ?  " 

She  looked  up  then  Avith  surprise  and  terror. 

"  Oh  !  you  know  it,"  she  said ;  "  he  has  told  you."  She 
took  his  hands  in  both  hers,  and  strove  to  free  herself. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  you  shall  not  take  yourself  away  from 
me.  Listen,  Reba;  that  bad  man  is  far  away  from  here. 
You  nor  I  shall  ever  see  his  face  again,  and  it  is  between 
us  as  if  he  had  never  been.  Is  it  not,  love  ?  " 

She  looked  humbly  into  his  eyes;  she  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands,  and  silently  wept. 

"  Darling,  when  we  parted  last  winter,  you  bade  me 
have  faith  in  God.  I,  alas,  was  faithless,  but  you  believed. 
Behold  here  the  full  and  perfect  fulfillment  of  your  trust." 

"Knowing  it  all — all,  you  do  not  scorn  me?" 

He  looked  down  into  her  eager  eyes  and  smiled  for  a 
reply. 


428  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"  Let  us  talk  about  it  a  little,  Reba,"  he  said.  "  I  want 
you  to  tell  me  if  you  never  suspected  the  truth  concerning 
your  relations  with  him." 

"  Never,  till  the  moment  when  he  himself  assured  me 
that  I  was  not  his  wife.  After  the  first  few  months,  I  knew 
very  well  that  he  did  not  love  me,  that  I  had  been  basely 
deceived  in  him  ;  yet  he  was  kind  in  many  ways  ;  seemed 
to  be  proud  of  me,  and  at  times  fond  of  me.  I  believed 
myself  his  wife ;  and  whatever  I  suffered,  I  took  it  all  as 
part  of  my  wifely  lot.  Oh  !  and  I  did  suffer,  only  God 
knows  how  much,  from  his  coarseness  and  neglect." 

Then  he  told  her  all  that  had  happened  the  night  before, 
and  explained  to  her  how  it  was  that  she  was  wholly  free 
from  the  man  who  had  betrayed  her. 

"And,  darling,"  he  said,  "  if  I  had  any  regret  for  the 
money  which  he  wrongfully  took  from  me,  it  is  all  gone 
now.  I  thank  him  for  the  deed,  since,  in  return  for  it,  I 
have  you.  Reba,  look  up,  and  be  cheerful." 

Her  head  was  drooping,  and  the  tears  flowed  silently. 

"  Did  he  tell  you,"  she  said,  "  about  my  little  baby  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear.  There  are  some  things  that  happened  aftei 
he  left,  that  I  want  to  know  about;  but  I  would  not  have 
mentioned  them  this  evening,  if  you  had  not." 

"  It  will  do  me  good  to  tell  you  all  about  it.  I  was  not 
able  to  leave  my  room  for  three  months.  When  I  was, 
the  first  thing  I  did  was  to  go  out  among  my  neighbors, 
in  the  little  village  in  which  I  had  lived,  and  try  to  get 
employment.  But  I  was  not  strong,  I  had  my  babe  to 
care  for,  and  of  course  I  was  not  a  promising  competitor 
for  work.  Worse  than  that,  the  people  had  all  along 
suspected  my  real  position,  and  because,  in  accordance 
with  Mr.  Clavering's  desire,  I  had  not  cultivated  any 
acquaintance  with  them,  they  were  slow  to  believe  in  me. 
A  few  women  looked  pitifully  upon  me,  but  more  of  them 
treated  me  with  contempt.  il  soon  felt  that  I  had  nothing 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  429 

to  hope  for  from  them.  Then  I  appealed  to  the  minister 
of  the  parish.  He  told  me  he  was  sorry  for  me,  but  saw 
nothing  which  he  could  do.  It  would  be  very  easy  for 
him  to  injure  his  reputation,  without  doing  me  any  good; 
but  he  referred  me  to  a  leading  man  in  his  parish,  a  man 
of  wealth,  who  could  assist  me,  if  he  chose,  and  who  had 
a  reputation  for  charity.  I  went  to  him.  Well,  I  never 
applied  to  a  man  again." 

"  Reba,  you  shall  tell  me  what  he  said  to  you ;  I  want 
to  know." 

"He  said  that  I  was  far  too  pretty  to  work  for  a  living, 
and  if  I  would  accept  his  protection,  I  should  live  like  a 
lady." 

"  Well,  my  child,  it  is  my  firm  conviction,  that,  if  you 
had  had  no  more  moral  strength  than  most  men  have, 
you  would  not  have  scorned  his  offer.  When  the  whole 
enginery  of  male  power  and  privilege  must  be  used  to 
debauch  women,  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  say  that  they  are  just 
as  prone  Lo  evil  as  men  are." 

"  If  my  suffering  is  sufficient  to  make  one  man,  with  the 
power  and  prestige  which  you  possess,  the  firm,  unwaver- 
ing, unselfish  champion  of  woman,  then  I  bless  God  that 
He  has  made  me  the  instrument  of  so  much  good. 

"  But  to  go  on  with  my  story.  I  spent  a  month  in  these 
endeavors,  subject  to  the  frequent  visits  of  Malbranche. 
I  should  have  left  the  town,  but  I  was  not  strong  enough 
to  walk  and  carry  my  child;  and  I  could  not,  in  that  small 
place,  convert  my  jewelry  into  money.  At  length,  Mal- 
branche appeared  to  relent.  He  swore  to  me,  again  and 
again,  that  he  meant  fairly  and  honorably  by  me,  and  that, 
if  I  would  go  with  him  to  his  mother's  house,  I  should  be 
well  treated,  till  I  could  find  some  means  of  earning  my 
own  living.  My  aunt  was  dead,  I  should  have  told  you 
before,  and  I  had  not  a  relative  in  the  world  to  whom  I 
could  turn  for  help. 


430  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"Oh!  my  friend,  what  happened  to  me  thereafter,  I 
cannot  now  find  strength  to  think  about.  Thank  God,  the 
worst  was  spared  me.  I  found  a  friend,  even  in  that  direful 
extremity.  I  had  not  been  in  the  house  six  hours  till  a 
girl  named  Lettie  warned  me  of  the  plot  to  steal  my 
baby  from  me,  and  then  compel  me  to  sin.  Oh  !  when  I 
think  of  that  moment,  I  do  not  wonder  that  women  fall. 
Deserted  by  everything  in  the  shape  of  human  flesh,  but 
this  one  poor  creature,  who  was  herself  the  victim  of 
despair;  shut  into  the  lowest  depths  of  hell,  it  seemed  to 
me ;  the  helpless,  innocent  babe  in  my  arms  about  to  be 
torn  from  me,  it  seemed  as  if  my  brain  must  give  way, 
and  my  soul  succumb  to  despair.  I  tell  you,  my  friend, 
the  miracle  of  my  story  is  not  that  I  was  so  shamefully 
betrayed — that  happens  every  day,  to  women  as  good  and 
pure  as  I — but  it  is  that  I  was  ever  saved.  That,  I  own, 
is  an  almost  incredible  marvel.  A  pestilence  breaks  forth 
in  the  land,  and  a  few  hundreds  of  men  and  women  are 
swept  off  into  eternity ;  and  men  bestir  themselves,  and 
spend  money  like  water,  to  find  means  to  check  the  evil ; 
ministers  pray  in  their  churches,  the  people  fast  in  their 
homes,  and  God  is  besought  day  and  night  to  spare  His 
children.  But  there  is  an  agency  abroad  which  slays 
women  by  thousands  every  year.  It  is  armed  with  all  the 
enginery  which  the  ingenuity  of  men  can  invent;  it  has 
more  gold  at  its  back  than  the  treasury  of  the  nation;  it 
has  voices  in  legislative  halls ;  it  has  agents  in  the  police 
of  every  city ;  and  yet  men  and  women  sleep  easily  in 
their  beds,  and  never  think  of  petitioning  heaven  to 
interfere  for  the  salvation  of  the  souls  and  bodies  of  their 
children.  Nay,  if  you  talk  to  them  about  it,  they  will  tell 
you  that  this  giant  evil  is  a  necessity  imposed  by  heaven 
upon  the  race.  If  blasphemy  can  go  farther  than  that, 
there  must  be  a  deeper  hell  than  a  brothel,  which  I  do  not 
believe." 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  431 

Mr.  Gladstone  heard  in  silence. 

"Reba,"  he  said,  at  length,  "one  man's  arm  is  very 
weak  to  contend  with  this  great  evil;  but  I  see  to-day,  as 
I  never  did  before,  the  necessity  of  putting  power  into  the 
hands  of  women  to  avenge  their  own  wrongs.  When 
women  cease  to  be  considered  the  inferior  sex,  they  will 
cease  to  be  looked  upon  as  the  lawful  prey  of  the  unlawful 
passions  of  men;  and  here,  with  your  hand  in  mine,  and 
God  above  us,  I  pledge  the  power,  and  labor,  and  influence 
of  my  life  to  the  cause  of  the  civil  and  political  enfran- 
chisement of  woman;  because  I  believe  that,  in  so  doing, 
I  work  most  directly  and  efficiently  for  the  elevation  of 
the  race." 

They  sat,  hand  in  hand,  in  silence,  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes. 

"  I  have  my  reward,"  said  Reba.  "  But  I  shall  never 
get  through  with  my  story.  In  all  those  two  wretched 
nights,  I  did  not  close  my  eyes  to  sleep.  After  I  knew 
that  there  was  a  chance  of  gaining  my  freedom,  I  prayed 
every  moment  to  God  to  teach  me  what  to  do  with  it. 
Then  I  was  made  to  see  that  I  must  part  with  my  child; 
there  was  absolutely  no  other  escape  from  a  life  of  sin. 
Oh,  my  friend,  you  cannot  know  the  trial  I  underwent 
before  I  acquiesced  in  that  decree.  The  mother-nature 
is  strong  in  me.  If  the  world  would  have  given  me  a 
corner  anywhere,  in  which  to  bring  her  up  to  womanhood 
—  an  honest  and  happy  womanhood — I  would  have  done 
drudgery  all  my  lifetime;  I  would  have  begged  my  bread, 
and  hers,  rather  than  be  separated  from  her.  But  in  that 
great,  wicked  city,  there  seemed  no  such  thing  possible. 
All  the  answer,  therefore,  that  I  could  get  to  my  weeping 
and  entreaty  was,  simply,  that  I  must  place  her  in  God's 
hands  and  await  the  result.  I  did  so,  and  God  was  good. 
He  cared  for  her,  and  took  my  lamb  to  a  quiet  haven,  that 
I  might  follow  her.  When  I  reached  Wyndham,  it  was 


432  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

necessary  that  I  should  have  a  name.  That  of  my  youth 
I  felt  that  I  had  no  claim  to.  Rebecca  was  my  mother's 
name;  it  was  also  in  part  my  own.  The  month  was  March, 
and  surely  no  human  being  was  wronged  if  I  took  that 
name  also.  God  has  been  good  to  me.  Out  of  darkness 
has  come  great  light;  but,  to  thousands,  the  way  I  was 
thrust  into,  is  a  way  that  leads  to  an  infamy  that  is 
unspeakably  worse  than  anything  which  we  call  death." 

Reba's  eyes,  shining  with  tears,  were  fixed  on  distance, 
and  the  agony  of  remembrance  in  them  pierced  her  lover's 
heart. 

"Reba,"  he  said,  "there  is  now  no  shadow  of  separation 
between  you  and  me.  Lay  your  drooping  head  upon  my 
shoulder;  trust  your  weary,  weary  frame  to  my  embrace. 
There  is  no  fiber  of  my  heart  that  is  not  strong  for  you, 
that  is  not  true  to  you,  that  does  not  own  you  friend,  wife, 
and  rightful  queen;  that  will  not  yield  you  protection  and 
allegiance,  forever  and  for  evermore." 

So  the  heart  of  the  rose  is  enfolded  in  its  cherishing 
circlet  of  leaves ;  so  the  vehement,  masterful  ocean 
encompasses  the  smiling,  fruitful  earth. 

Oh!  to  a  woman's  heart  what  bliss  is  sweeter  than  the 
certainty  of  sure  protection,  unshaken  constancy,  and  a 
love  so  true  that,  though  she  reveal  her  heart  to  its  inmost 
core,  there  is  no  possibility  of  doubt,  detraction  or  mis- 
conception. 

To  souls  like  these  there  come  supreme  moments  in  the 
enjoyments  of  love,  when,  to  the  purest  ecstasy  of  every 
physical  and  intellectual  capacity,  is  added,  through  the 
super-sensuous  powers  of  the  woman,  an  influx  of  spiritual 
life  and  light,  from  the  very  heavens  themselves,  which 
lifts  and  thrills  and  makes  glorious  the  whole  being;  and 
is,  to  the  two  souls  fused  in  this  divine  passion,  a  broader, 
deeper,  spiritual  experience  than  any  gained  in  church  or 
temple,  and  only  less  exalted  than  those  rare  moments 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  433 

when  the  soul  stands  face  to  face  with  God.  To  this 
supreme  rapture,  the  gross  delights  of  the  sensualist  are 
no  more  to  be  compared  than  the  feast  of  the  blubber- 
eating  Esquimaux  to  the  nectar  and  ambrosia  of  Olympus. 

Nothing  short  of  this,  the  sweet,  harmonious  waking  of 
the  full  diapason  of  their  being,  is  worthy  of  that  creative 
power,  almost  divine,  which  nature  bestows  upon  two 
loving  hearts. 

Alas !  alas !  how  many  noble  souls,  cherishing  the 
instinctive  prescience  of  these  joys,  have  been  forever 
ruined  by  searching  through  the  sensualist's  paradise  to 
find  them. 


484  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 


XLI. 

THE     PESTILENCE     THAT     WALKETH     IN     DARKNESS  :      THE 
DESTRUCTION   THAT   WASTETH   AT   NOONDAY. 

Theodore  Moss  came  home  to  spend  his  August  vaca- 
tion. He  was  twenty  now,  a  fine,  manly  youth,  a  son  of 
whom  any  mother  might  be  proud.  Good  reports  followed 
him,  too.  He  was  a  steady  and  faithful  worker,  and 
developed  an  unusual  aptitude  for  business,  and  there  was 
a  firm  and  self-reliant  manhood  about  him,  which  kept  him 
aloof  from  transgression.  Certainly,  there  was  no  young 
man  in  Wyndham  whose  prospects  were  fairer  than  those 
of  Theodore  Moss;  no  mother  who  looked  up  to  a  son, 
taller  now  than  herself,  and  promising  her  a  steadfast 
reliance  in  her  old  age,  with  more  womanly  pride  and 
affection  than  Mrs.  Moss. 

"When  I  look  back  on  all  the  days  and  nights  of  hard 
work  and  anxious  watching  that  I've  spent  for  that  boy," 
she  said,  "they  seem  just  like  nothing  now.  I  tell  you  he 
is  more  to  me  than  a  fortune  would  be,  for  if  he  lives  I 
shall  never  want;  and  then  he  is  my  boy,  my  own  flesh 
and  blood,  to  love  and  to  honor,  and  to  care  for,  besides." 

Moses,  in  his  way,  was  equally  proud. 

"The  boy  wears  better  clothes  than  ever  his  father  could, 
but  he  has  earnt  'em,  and  I  wish  him  joy  of  'em.  He'll 
look  out  for  his  mother  and  the  young  ones  when  I'm 
gone.  There  is  many  a  rich  man  would  give  half  his 
fortune  for  a  boy  like  Theodore." 

And  Theodore  took  all  the  gratulations  and  praises  with 
the  bright  self-consciousness  of  a  hopeful  young  man.  He 
had  done  well,  he  meant  to  do  better;  to  do  all  that  his 
father  and  mother  expected  of  him,  and  more  besides  than 


A  WOMAN  S   SECRET.  435 

they  could  dream  of.  He  felt  that  his  future  was  broader 
than  the  scope  of  their  vision,  and  he  looked  forward  with 
joy  to  the  pleasant  task  of  developing  before  their  eyes  the 
latent  capacities  which  were  stored  in  his  blood  and  his 
brain. 

But  with  all  this  buoyant  hopefulness  he  carried  about 
with  him  a  secret  uneasiness.  Going  over  to  call  on  Miss 
Joanna  and  visit  Milton,  he  easily  found  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  the  doctor  alone.  The  doctor,  who  had  never 
kept  himself  aloof  from  youth,  and  who  had  his  own  ways 
and  means  of  putting  himself  in  sympathy  with  them,  soon 
detected  the  secret  anxiety  of  Theodore.  Kindly  and  with 
patient  tact,  he  drew  the  cause  of  it  to  the  light.  It  was 
the  old,  terrible  story  of  temptation,  of  sin,  of  wreked 
betrayal,  of  suffering  borne  with  more  than  Spartan 
fortitude,  of  recourse  to  charlatans,  and  the  doctor  feared, 
though  he  did  not  say  it,  of  ultimate  rum  and  death ;  with 
the  deeper  pathos  of  the  boy's  heartfelt  cry,  '•'•Don't  let  it 
get  to  mother" 

Of  this  Monster  who  sits  in  his  Cave  of  Death,  and 
yearly  crunches  the  bones  of  thousands  of  the  flower  of 
the  world's  manhood,  lured  to  him  by  cunning  appliances 
of  youthful  passion  and  restless  curiosity,  who  shall  speak. 
Society  lays  its  finger  on  the  lip  of  the  medical  practi- 
tioner, but  the  mothers  of  sons  have  a  right  to  protest 
against  the  blindness,  and  ignorance,  and  false  teaching 
which  work  such  havoc  and  destruction  among  the  best 
blood  of  the  nation,  the  travail-bought  offspring  of  their 
hearts  and  lives. 

The  very  framework  of  society,  at  present,  is  constituted 
so  as  almost  inevitably  to  drive  innocent  and  well-meaning 
boys  to  vicious  courses.  Public  opinion  forbids  the  mother 
to  speak  even  to  her  own  son  on  this  matter,  lest,  forsooth, 
the  inferior  creature  should  meddle  with  and  impair  the 
high  prerogative  of  the  superior  sex.  With  yearning  heart 


436  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

and  tearful  eye  she  is  constrained  to  send  him  out  into  the 
world,  full  armed  and  panoplied  at  every  point,  but  the 
very  one  at  which  he  is  most  vulnerable.  All  the  com- 
mandments but  one  she  may  write  upon  his  heart,  but  let 
her  beware  how  she  mentions  the  seventh  commandment  in 
his  hearing.  God  says,  "Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery." 
Man  says,  "I  will  commit  adultery,  I  and  my  sons,  and 
my  sons  sons,  and  woe  betide  the  power,  of  church,  or 
state,  or  home,  that  shall  raise  hand  or  voice  by  way  of 
hinderance." 

So  the  boy  goes  out  into  the  world,  at  the  very  age  when 
his  newly  developed  passions  are  in  the  ferment  of  growth, 
ready  fitted  to  imbibe  the  teachings  and  copy  the  examples 
of  hts  elders.  All  about  him,  in  every  grade  of  life,  licen- 
tiousness is  a  matter  of  course  among  men,  and  its  vilest 
consequences  a  mere  pleasantry.  The  youth  who  keeps 
himself  pure  is  a  spooney,  lacking  in  the  spirit  and  passions 
of  a  man,  tied  still  to  the  apron  strings  of  that  old  woman, 
his  mother;  and  the  blush  of  innocent  shame  on  his 
cheek,  or  the  hot  word  of  defense  for  the  holy  memories 
of  home,  are  themes  for  scorn  and  contempt. 

When  such  a  state  of  things  is  so  nearly  universal,  it  is 
no  wonder  that  women  in  virtuous  homes  are  compelled  to 
regard  the  whole  male  sex  as  the  depraved  creatures  which 
they  proclaim  themselves  to  be ;  creatures  made  by  this 
very  course  of  training,  in  too  many  instances,  really  unable 
to  resist  the  false  appetites  which  drive  them  to  brothels ; 
for  it  is  a  fact  that  one-half  of  the  men  of  the  world  are  the 
victims  of  a  sensual  appetite  as  depraved  and  unnatural  as 
that  of  the  drunkard  for  his  cups.  The  consequence  is, 
that  they  must  be  kept  at  arm's  length,  unless  they  come  in 
the  guise  of  suitors;  and  then,  if  the  women  are  wise,  they 
are  to  be  well  tried  before  they  are  trusted.  In  this  way 
the  young  man,  who,  from  any  one  of  a  dozen  reasons,  is 
not  seeking  mrrriage,  is  unable  to  gratify  his  natural  and 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  437 

reasonable  longing  for  a  pure  acquaintance  with,  and  inti- 
mate knowledge  of,  the  female  sex,  and  is  driven  to  accept 
the  vile  alternative  which  the  profligacy  of  his  elders  has 
placed  ready  made  at  his  hand. 

But  the  prayers  of  agonized  mothers  have  not  gone  up, 
generation  after  generation,  into  the  ears  of  an  unheeding 
God.  Slowly,  perhaps,  but  surely,  the  time  will  come  when 
power  over  these  great  moral  issues  will  pass  from  the 
hands  which  have  so  long  ignorantly  profaned  it,  into  the 
purer  keeping  of  enlightened  women.  And  then  it  will 
be  gradually  learned,  that  as  a  woman  gains  the  virtue 
of  self-sacrifice  through  her  knowledge  of  men,  so  a 
man  must  acquire  the  virtue  of  self-control  through  his 
knowledge  of  women.  So  shall  the  great  ends  of  love  be 
consummated,  and  the  race  created  anew  in  purity  and 
strength. 

After  a  three  weeks'  visit,  Theodore  went  back  to  New 
York,  leaving  behind  him  golden  auguries  in  the  hearts  of 
all  who  knew  him;  and  carrying  with  him,  more  precious 
than  even  his  mother's  parting  kiss,  the  smile  with  which 
Maude  Darrell  had  met  his  modest,  manly  bow  upon  the 
street 

Toward  the  next  spring,  the  doctor  went  down  to  New 
York.  He  lodged,  as  he  always  did,  at  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Crane,  a  woman  who  had  gone  from  Wyndham  twenty 
years  before,  and  with  whom  Theodore  also  boarded. 
There  was  another  long  consultation  between  the  old  man 
and  the  youth,  in  the  light  of  which  the  doctor's  last  hope 
vanished.  Theodore  caught  the  sad  and  downcast  ray  of 
his  eye,  and  interpreted  it  in  the  true  spirit,  though  his 
ardent  soul  failed  to  catch  the  widest  scope  of  the  premo- 
nition. 

"  You  can  say  nothing  to  encourage  me,"  he  said,  sadly. 
"Well,  then,  life  is  robbed  of  all  that  made  it  seem  worth 
having. 


438  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

"I  have  suffered  more  than  the  martyrs  did  who  were 
burned  at  the  stake  for  their  faith,  but  I  am  a  man,  and 
can  bear  pain. 

"  There  was  one  of  whom  I  dreamed.  I  never  dared  to 
say  I  loved  her,  but  every  step  I  gained  was  dear  to  me, 
because  it  brought  me  nearer  to  her.  If  she  is  lost  to  me, 
there  is  nothing  left  in  life  worth  living  for." 

He  looked  up  with  terrible  energy  in  his  flashing  eye. 

"  My  curse  shall  rest  forever  and  for  evermore,"  he  said, 
"  on  the  man  who  brought  this  upon  me ;  who  called  my 
mother  an  old  woman,  who  goaded  me  on  by  sneers  at  my 
rustic  want  of  polish,  and  inflamed  my  imagination  by 
hellish  devices.  My  curse  upon  him  and  his  forever  — 
forever." 

The  doctor  spoke  calmly  to  him,  and  strove  to  soothe 
his  agitation,  and  lead  him  back  to  the  gentle  memories 
of  home. 

"  Oh !  my  poor  mother,"  he  cried,  manly  tears  rolling 
down  his  cheeks,  "when  you  know  how  your  boy  is 
disgraced,  it  will  kill  you.  Doctor,"  his  eye  was  clear 
and  glittering  now;  "1  will  never  look  into  my  mother's 
face  again." 

The  doctor  left  him  that  evening  to  return  to  Wyndham. 
Before  midnight  a  pistol  shot  was  heard  in  his  room,  and 
the  inmates  of  the  house,  rushing  in,  found  him  lying  in  a 
pool  of  blood  upon  the  floor. 

Of  the  anguish  and  desolation  of  Rachael  Moss'  heart, 
I  cannot  speak.  Bereaved  by  the  hands  of  wicked  men, 
as  surely  as  if  they  had  waylaid  and  murdered  her  darling 
by  the  roadside,  she  could  turn  only  to  God  for  comfort. 
His  eye  only  measures  the  depths  of  such  afflictions,  His 
hand  only  can  minister  consolation. 

Months  afterward,  Rachel  said :  "  It  has  made  me 
humbler,  I  think.  If  Theodore  had  lived,  I  might  have 
triumphed  over  poor  Jane  Meredith,  in  the  trials  which 


A  WOMAN'S  SECRET.  439 

she  has  seen  with  her  only  child — the  child  which  she  has 
toiled  for,  and  watched  for,  as  much  as  I  for  all  mine. 
And  now,  parted  from  her  husband,  with  her  little  child 
upon  her  hands,  she  is  a  deeper  trouble  and  anxiety  than 
when  she  was  a  babe  herself.  God  teaches  us  how  to 
sympathize  with  one  another,  and  I  can  pray  for  Jane,  and 
her  children,  with  a  full  heart." 

Let  us  turn  to  pltasanter  themes. 

There  was  a  quiet  wedding  in  the  church  that  Fall,  which 
set  the  outward  seal  upon  the  union  of  two  hearts,  which 
had  long  beat  only  for  each  other.  The  doctor  gave  the 
bride  away,  and  felt  no  secret  pang. 

The  old  mansion  has  been  refitted;  the  fire  burns  brightly 
on  its  hearth;  faces  of  children  gleam  from  its  windows, 
and  in  the  hearts  of  its  owners  eternal  sunshine  reigns. 

Within  the  year  after  his  departure  from  Wyndham, 
news  came,  in  a  roundabout  way,  of  the  death  of  Peyton 
Clavering.  He  fell  in  a  duel. 

The  doctor  still  lives.  There  is  a  slowness  now  in  his 
gait,  which  is  not  deliberation,  but  rheumatism.  He  has  a 
cough,  too,  and  his  eye  is  dimmed.  Men  say  with  respect- 
ful regret  that  the  doctor  is  failing.  His  immediate  friends 
realize  to  themselves,  from  day  to  day,  his  growing  years, 
and  accept  nature's  consolations.  But,  as  he  rides  over 
those  gray  and  wind-swept  hills,  there  are  in  every  hamlet, 
and  almost  every  farm-house,  women  whose  eyes  grow 
dim  with  tears,  and  whose  hearts  swell  with  unspoken 
apprehension,  as  they  mark  the  doctor's  slow  decline. 
Women  by  whose  bedsides  he  has  stood,  when  they  went 
down  alone  into  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death ;  the 
fearless,  skillful,  never-failing  friend,  when  all  others  failed ; 
women  who,  in  long,  languishing  illnesses,  which  no  other 
eye  could  comprehend,  knew  by  the  silent,  pitying  beam 
of  his,  that  he  did  comprehend,  did  patiently  and  kindly 
sympathize  with,  when  others  doubted  or  sneered.  There 


440  A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

is  a  taint  upon  the  doctor's  orthodoxy ;  but  the  thousands 
of  silent,  grateful  prayers  from  women's  hearts,  which  bear 
his  name  to  heaven,  are  faithful  witnesses  there  of  his  noble, 
manly  life 


THE    END. 


A    000028290 


